The Frigid Burn of Fate
by CommanderElsa
Summary: Anna and Kristoff are on their honeymoon, when Elsa is forced to handle an impossible situation. Hans gains freedom from his prison for a price and is forced to turn to Elsa for help. Can two broken people somehow mend the wounds of the past and find a future together or will their differences drive them apart?
1. Chapter 1

**This story hit me completely by accident yesterday when I woke up. The first time I saw the film I was like No, Hans is a douchebag, there's no way he could be redeemed. But then I saw it again...and again...and something about him just stuck with me. And I started seeing potential with him and Elsa. **

**So anyway, I'm scared to _death _but I'm going to do it anyway because I have major writer's block with my other stuff, so maybe this will get me back on track. **

**(Also I subscribe to the headcanon that the Queen of Arendelle and Queen Primrose of Corona are sisters making Rapunzel Anna and Elsa's cousin. That will be reflected in this.)**

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_Arendelle, May_

"Anna, you know I love you dearly, but you cannot change the fact that you are still a Princess of Arendelle. You can't get married barefoot in a meadow wearing a crown of flowers." Elsa grinned knowingly when her sister bit her lower lip. "We have our duties. Think of it this way," she added, squeezing the younger woman's shoulders, "You'll be giving our people the highlight of their lives by letting them see their Princess get married. Just pretend this is the practice wedding, and then when you and Kristoff leave tonight for your honeymoon, you can retake vows any way you like. Barefoot even!"

"Elsa," Anna gave her a weary look, "We're going into the mountains for our honeymoon. I don't really think that standing barefoot in the snow would be a great idea."

"What you do after the wedding is your business," Elsa shrugged with a graceful wave of her hand.

"I wish Mother and Father could be here," Anna sighed, staring at her reflection. Elsa took the veil gingerly in her hand, feeling a wash of sadness; it had been their mother's veil when she'd married their father. She missed her mother, with her gentle demeanor and soft voice. It didn't help that she looked near identical to her mother, aside from their hair colors. Every time she looked in a mirror, it was a haunting reminder of what they'd lost four years before. Of course, there had always been the twinkle of fear in her parents' eyes when they'd looked at her. Anna had never known.

"Me too," Elsa finally replied, tucking the comb of the veil into Anna's braided chignon. "It was kind of Uncle Thomas to offer to walk you down the aisle," she added.

"Aunt Primrose feels guilty because Mother and Father were shipwrecked on the way to her daughter's wedding," Anna replied, meeting Elsa's eyes in the mirror. Elsa froze, tiara in hand, eyes wide in horror.

"What?"

"I heard her talking to Uncle Thomas when they were walking in the garden yesterday," Anna confessed. "Kristoff and I were taking some carrots to Sven, when…"

"But it isn't their fault!" Elsa exclaimed, shaking her head. "That poor woman…"

"She and Mother were very close," Anna agreed, "Did mother ever tell you the stories of the trouble they used to get into together?"

Elsa's eyes pricked with tears of envy, but she blinked them away. "No," she told Anna in a quiet tone, "Mother and I did not share many stories after…when I—"

"Oh." Anna's eyes grew large with remorse. "Oh, Elsa…I'm sorry."

Elsa adopted a pleasant smile, gesturing that it was nothing. "It's nothing," she assured Anna. "Today is your day."

"I just…I sometimes forget how much you missed out on," Anna swallowed, turning to face her sister. "You were meant to go with them to that wedding. You were eighteen."

"Then you would have been alone," Elsa reminded her delicately, wincing slightly. "It was a terrible thing that happened to our parents. But I believe everything happens for a reason. We're meant to learn from our mistakes. Yes, our parents were mistaken in how they handled my…condition…"

"It's _not _a condition, Elsa!" Anna insisted vehemently, her eyes flashing. "You were given a gift and they made you afraid of it. Why aren't you _angry?" _

A lump formed in Elsa's throat. "Look where they _are, _Anna…" she gestured around to indicate their absence. "What _good _does it do me to be angry with ghosts?"

"Oh, _Elsa…"_ Anna's face crumpled as she launched herself into Elsa's arms, sobbing. Elsa kept her composure, only allowing one tear to fall as she comforted her sister. She felt it freeze on her cheek and evaporate as if it had never been there at all.

"Come," Elsa sighed, bringing Anna's face away from her shoulder. "You don't want to be all blotchy for your wedding," she chuckled, using the pad of her thumb to wipe her sister's tears away with the greatest of care.

"I'm sorry…" Anna told her brokenly, taking Elsa's hands.

"Well, I'm _not," _Elsa told her with a smile, "Because you _saved _me. I owe you _everything, _Sister. And I owe it to that poor man who's waited over a year to marry you to get you down to that chapel in one piece. Now, turn around so I can put the tiara on you."

"Why do I have to wear a—?"

"Anna…" Elsa interrupted warningly, though she was suppressing laughter.

"_Fine…" _

The door opened, and a brown head poked into the room. Their Aunt's green eyes immediately filled with tears at the sight of Anna in her wedding gown. "Oh, Darling…

Elsa finished securing the tiara and turned away for a moment, because seeing her Aunt hurt for a moment. The similarities between her and their mother were overwhelming. "It's time," Aunt Primrose told Anna, hugging the girl around the shoulders, before turning to Elsa.

"Your mother would have been so proud of _both _of you," Primrose said, brushing a tear from her eyes. "She always spoke of you both with such pride in her letters."

"Thank you," Elsa responded graciously, nodding politely at her Aunt. The woman surprised her by drawing her into a firm, maternal embrace. Taken aback, Elsa hesitantly brought her hands up to the woman's back, allowing herself to be held by someone other than Anna for the first time in years.

"Rapunzel is so sorry she couldn't make the wedding," Primrose told them when she pulled back, reaching for Anna's hand as well. "She's going practically mad in her confinement." A small smirk of amusement came to the woman's lips. "Poor Eugene."

"They were so very kind when they came to my coronation," Elsa told her Aunt, who nodded.

"You'll never meet a more loving and open person than my daughter," the Queen of Corona laughed, "Anna, you and she would get on famously."

"Kristoff and I will have to visit soon," Anna agreed, "After the baby's born, of course. I mean, not that we _wouldn't _want to be there for the birth. I love babies! I was just thinking that they probably want privacy and—"

"We would _love _to have you," Queen Primrose laughed, patting the girl's cheek. "Whenever you should like to come."

Elsa nodded her approval, though she felt a twinge of envy in that moment. No one could ever accuse her of being openly loving. At best she was politely reserved, keeping her distance out of old habits while her sister could plop herself into any group and have a wonderful conversation about anything from crop harvesting to the joys of chocolate.

They were ushered into a waiting carriage, waving graciously to the townspeople as the carriage drove through the village toward the Cathedral, where Anna would marry Kristoff. Tulip petals were thrown as the passed, filling the air with the lovely scent of spring. Elsa glanced down at her gloved hands, noting with relief that for once, she was wearing gloves out of propriety and not fear. Her dress was a modest gown of pale yellow and pink sash and cape, hair perfectly pinned at the nape of her neck and tiara in place. She was the image of a proper monarch.

Elsa exited the carriage first, taking the proffered hand of a footman and smiling at the people lined along the carpet leading into the Cathedral. She thanked the footman, accepting a kiss on the cheek from her Uncle, the King of Corona, who moved past her to help Anna out of the open carriage to the cheers of the people.

"Elsa! Hey, Elsa!" A familiar voice called, making Elsa grin, looking up to see Olaf scurrying toward her, wearing what looked like a bow tie and a top hat. She nearly burst out laughing right there in front of the public! "Look at me, all dressed up!"

"I've never seen a more handsome snow man," she assured him, noticing Sven standing dejectedly near the entrance of the Cathedral (also wearing a top hat). "Why does Sven look so sad?" She inquired. Olaf sighed heavily.

"They won't let him in…Kristoff is pretty upset, because Sven is his best man, but the Bishop said that 'an altar is no place for a reindeer.'" Olaf imitated the elderly Bishop's voice. Elsa nodded, moving toward the reindeer, stopping only to accept a tulip from a very small girl.

"Why, thank you, dearest," she told the child, patting her on the head as the parents bowed reverently.

"Your Majesty."

Sven let out a heavy exhale as she reached him, staring sympathetically up into his expressive eyes. "Don't worry, sweetheart," she told him, "I'll fix it." She gave him a peck on the nose, earning a bashful look. In the nearly two years since Sven and Kristoff had come into their lives, she'd developed a certain fondness for the reindeer, and she certainly wasn't going to let some stuffy old Bishop ruin her sister and Kristoff's day when Sven was very important to both of them. Gingerly, she untied Sven's reins from the post and nodded to one of the guards to open the door to the Cathedral. She could hear the sound of Kristoff arguing with someone. At once, the Bishop was before her, complaining.

"Your Majesty, I'm afraid I cannot allow that animal to be present—"

"You don't understand," she cut him off, speaking in an even voice. "This _animal _is the Best Man, and he is part of the royal family. If you cannot accept his presence, then I will have to find another man of the clergy to perform the ceremony…you understand."

"I…" The Bishop looked from her to Sven to Kristoff, before throwing his hands up in defeat. "Very well!" He stalked off, muttering something about "disrespect" and a "zoo". Elsa took the reins off of Sven, smiling up at Kristoff, who looked torn between relief and sheer terror as he tugged absently at his collar.

"Thanks, I just…it's been a long day, and…" He began, frowning as Elsa stepped closer and began to fix his tie. "Oh, that…yeah…I couldn't figure it out."

"Just relax, Kristoff," she laughed, glancing around him at the crowded Cathedral. "Anna is here...she looks beautiful…Sven is going to be right up there with you. Are any of your family coming?"

"Oh, uh…no," Kristoff chuckled. "The trolls don't do the whole church thing…we did a special little ceremony with them night before last."

"Love experts," Elsa inserted, raising a brow at him. He shrugged helplessly, blushing. "You'd better get up there," she nodded to the altar. "Kristoff!" She called after him. He turned back, expectantly. "I couldn't have picked a better man for her." He nodded his thanks, though he said nothing even if his eyes were glittering dangerously as he resumed walking down the aisle.

"My lady!" A female voice caught her attention as a small bouquet of tulips were thrust into her hands.

"Thank you, Gerda," Elsa told her faithful servant, who nodded with pride in her eyes.

"Next time we all gather here, it will be for _your _wedding, Your Majesty," the woman insisted, sending a strange chill through Elsa's body. She'd always assumed that she would never marry, having spent most of her life in isolation. The truth was, she couldn't imagine being in love with anyone romantically and having them with her all the time. Not that it was imperative for every marriage to be a love match, of course. Especially not for a Queen. It was a lonely life of privilege she'd been born into, but she understood her duties; embraced them. So, she simply smiled warmly at Gerda, stepping toward the aisle as Anna was ushered in behind her.

Kristoff stood at the altar with Sven and Olaf beside him; the strangest wedding party she had ever heard of and yet, Elsa wouldn't have changed anything. It was so…_Anna. _There would be time for tradition and propriety at her own wedding should there ever be one. It was not something to think about today.

Aunt Primrose was ushered to her seat, while Elsa began her slow journey down the aisle, moving carefully and elegantly as she'd been taught to. She winked at Kristoff, before moving to the side and turning toward the closed doors that would open to reveal Anna. A hush fell over the room as everyone rose for the bride, accompanied on the arm of her Uncle.

Anna was an ethereal vision in white, the gossamer veil just shielding her face from clear view. Elsa gave Kristoff a sidelong glance, noticing he was frozen in place with wide eyes, hands clasped in front and jaw hanging slightly open. It would have been adorable if he didn't look so terrified. Anna, for her part, was grinning like an idiot behind her veil, stumbling a little when they neared the altar. Luckily Uncle Thomas had quick reflexes and righted her before anyone could notice. Elsa sighed a little in relief when they finally stopped.

"Who gives this woman in marriage?"

"I do." King Thomas's voice boomed with the air of authority. He carefully lifted Anna's veil, kissing her forehead and placing her hand into Kristoff's. Elsa could see Kristoff's shaking fingers as he took his bride's delicate hand. The two ascended the stairs together as the Bishop began to speak, eyeing Sven warily from time to time, much to Elsa's amusement.

Elsa's mind drifted as the older man spoke, thinking of the future. Soon, Kristoff and Anna would want to have a family. The castle would be filled with laughter and the sounds of children running through the halls as Elsa had never been able to do. And Elsa would be their Aunt, kind and loving, patient as ever with her nieces and nephews. An awful thought occurred to her; she would have to see how happy they all were, and while she was still their family, Elsa realized in that moment that she wanted a family of her own. She wanted someone to look at her the way Kristoff was currently looking at Anna, with eyes full of tears and a silly half grin on his face. She wanted to look down at a baby in her arms, who belonged to her and had her eyes and someone else's smile.

_Alone and free…_

It was contradictory when one really thought about it. Alone, you never risked getting hurt; would never have to be disappointed or rejected or answer to another person. But, on the other hand, if you were alone, there were no rewards. It would just be you watching other people live their lives. It wasn't freedom; it was confinement. It wasn't what Elsa wanted.

"Do you, Princess Anna of Arendelle, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"Yes!" Anna's chipper reply came without hesitation, making some people chuckle softly.

Olaf interrupted in an extremely audible stage whisper. "You're _supposed _to say 'I do!'"

"Oh!" Anna blushed, giggling. "I do!" Even Kristoff managed to look less frightened for half a second and laugh.

"And do you, Kristoff Bjorgman, take Princess Anna of Arendelle to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

Kristoff's voice was barely audible. "I do."

Anna let out a small squeal, grinning at her groom as the Bishop pronounced them married, ignoring what the man was saying as she practically leapt up into Kristoff's arms, throwing her arms around the man's neck, kissing him. Giving up, the Bishop sighed and closed his book, stepping back with a slight roll of his eyes. Elsa smirked to herself at his resignation, winking at Sven.

Elsa took the lead in the Bishop's stead.

"May I present Princess Anna of Arendelle and her husband, Prince Kristoff." She lead the applause, grinning at Kristoff, who looked like he hadn't realized that he would now be a Prince (well, technically a Prince Consort). Elsa nodded to him, gesturing for them to take their leave and get into the carriage that would take them back to the castle for their wedding reception. She would follow with her Aunt and Uncle and they would all receive their guests. It was all planned to a tee.

For a fleeting moment, Elsa wished for something spontaneous to happen in her life. Everything was always just so, nothing out of the ordinary (aside from the occasionally eternal winter) ever happening. For just one day, she wanted to be like Anna, so relaxed and outgoing, chattering with anyone would was near her. Dancing until her feet hurt.

Elsa remained withdrawn, lost in thought on the ride back to the castle, staring forlornly out at the celebrating crowds, wishing for one day she could just be another face in the crowd.

"…don't you think so, my dear?"

Elsa was brought out of her thoughts by her Uncle's voice, looking away from the window of the closed carriage across to where the Queen and King of Corona sat, looking at her expectantly.

"I, er…I'm sorry. I missed what was said."

Aunt Primrose took pity on her. "We were just musing on how Kristoff is the perfect counterpart to Anna's free spirit. They're good for each other."

"Oh!" Elsa exclaimed, nodding, "Yes, of course. I couldn't approve more. Kristoff has been a welcome addition to our lives. And, of course Sven. You probably found it strange that he had a reindeer for a best man," she laughed, shaking her head. The King and Queen shared a look of entertainment.

"Actually…" Aunt Primrose began, "We have some experience with, shall we say…sidekicks?" At Elsa's bemused expression, she added. "Rapunzel has a pet – well, he's more a best friend of sorts – but he's a chameleon…Pascal."

"And then there's Maximus…" Uncle Thomas chimed in, grinning. "He's Eugene's horse…and incidentally head of my Royal Guard. They were the flower girl and ring bearer at Rapunzel's wedding."

The two chuckled together until the smile abruptly left Aunt Primrose's face along with all of the color in the woman's cheeks as her eyes filled with realization. Elsa knew for an awful moment that the woman was thinking of her sister who had been lost en route to said wedding. "I'm so sorry…" Queen Primrose said quickly, meeting Elsa's eyes.

Elsa gestured dismissively. "No, that's fine…"

Mercifully, the carriage came to a halt and before they could say anything else, they were being helped out and into the castle, where Kristoff and Anna were already waiting, marveling together at the wedding cake.

"Do you think we should start at the top and work our way to the bottom… or should we start at the bottom?" Anna was saying. "Or maybe we could start in the _middle…_and then there would be equal amounts of cake on each side…" Elsa shook her head, smiling fondly as she felt a nudge on her shoulder.

"Hello Sven…" she whispered, reaching into a basket and withdrawing a carrot, before feeding it to the anxious reindeer. "Don't tell," she added.

"I, for one, am going to dance until _dawn,_" Olaf's voice came, casting Elsa's eyes downward. "Will you dance with me, Elsa?"

"How could I refuse such a gentleman?" She laughed, patting the top of his top hat.

"Oh, _Elsa!" _Anna called, waving her over. Elsa obliged immediately, holding her hands out to the married couple. "This _cake _is amazing."

"Jan does great work," Elsa agreed, "His frosting is always perfect. Remember those cream horns Father used to buy from him when we were girls?"

Anna gasped, nodding at the memory. "With the buttercream filling and the fluffy dough? Mmm!" The bride spun around in a circle, making Kristoff laugh.

"I've never had a cream horn," he mused, shrugging. "Come to think of it, I haven't had very many sweets…kind of hard to stop for cupcakes when you're harvesting ice."

The smile left Anna's face, undoubtedly as her mind swam with visions of the little orphan boy her husband had been once. "Oh, Kristoff…I promise, we're going to make up for everything you missed out on."

The blond ice harvester pulled her into his arms by the waist. "You already have…"

Elsa turned away awkwardly, feeling like she was intruding on something private. It wasn't that she wasn't happy for them; the exact opposite, in fact. She was delirious with joy for her sister, but seeing them together, love for each other so obvious, it made her long for things she didn't and might never have. Realistically, she had to marry out of duty to her kingdom. She had to provide heirs and secure the future of her people. Love was an unlikely acquisition for her. But, oh…in her most secret thoughts, she yearned for it. Of course, those thoughts were immediately pushed far back into the recesses of her mind where they belonged.

The reception, of course, was a rousing success and a surprisingly good time. Elsa even danced! Once with Olaf, of course; once with her Uncle and once with Kristoff while Anna was occupied. In many ways, Kristoff was like her; solitary and withdrawn, so it had surprised both her and him when Anna had insisted they dance a waltz together. Neither had very much experience dancing with people, so they had ended up laughing through the entire thing. For the first time since Kristoff had come into their lives, Elsa realized he wasn't just Anna's husband, or Consort…or the ice harvester. She hadn't lost a sister, she'd gained a brother, and she'd said as much in the toast she gave.

Too soon, it was all over, with Anna retreating up to her quarters to get ready to leave for her honeymoon in the mountains with her new husband. Elsa followed, wondering if she would need to be the dutiful sister and give Anna "the talk". Thankfully, when she found the courage to bring the subject up, Anna had giggled and told her it wasn't necessary, which had raised Elsa's brows so high, she thought they might disappear into her hair.

"No!" Anna laughed, clutching her side. "That's not what I mean! We haven't – well _I _haven't…we're not…I mean, that is to say we've _talked _about it—"

"_Anna!" _Elsa covered her face in horror.

"Well, we were _engaged…_it's not like we've been _completely _chaste," Anna pointed out. "But I've known about…you know…since I was thirteen. I was hiding in one of the parlors when I heard two of the maids talking. I didn't know maids were so…"

"Promiscuous?" Elsa offered dryly.

"I was going to say _knowledgable." _Anna inserted. "And there's so much more than just—"

"Okay, this talk is over," Elsa groaned, feeling her pale face become a violent shade of pink as Anna descended into raucous giggles, inherently amused with the discomfort she'd caused her sister. Elsa was surprised when she felt Anna's arms wrap around her from behind, resting her cheek against Elsa's shoulder blade. Affectionately, Elsa patted Anna's hands.

"I love you, Elsa," Anna told her softly.

Elsa nodded, smiling to herself. "I love you too, Anna." She pulled away, turning back to face her sister. "And you can tell me all about your trip when you return. Er, well…the non-private parts of the trip." Anna snickered, nodding.

"Of course," she agreed.

Kristoff appeared in the door, dressed in traveling clothes. He looked every inch a prince. It was almost amusing. "Ready?" He asked his wife, holding out a hand to her. Anna nodded, looking one more time at her sister. Elsa waved for her to go, standing up on her toes to kiss Kristoff on the cheek.

"Take care of my sister," she whispered.

His dark eyes met hers sincerely. _"Always. _Take care of yourself, okay? Don't work yourself too hard. We all know how when you're lonely you throw yourself into work. Try and relax. It's spring! Enjoy it."

"I'll try," Elsa conceded, laughing. She followed them out to Kristoff's beloved cutter, where Sven was already bridled and ready to go. He looked quite satisfied with himself all decked out with a decorative wreath around his neck. Olaf was waiting for them in the back of the sled as well, and Elsa couldn't help thinking it was the strangest entourage for a honeymoon, though Anna had insisted that Olaf go so he could enjoy some time in the snow. And he could keep Sven company while the couple was…

Oh dear.

"We'll see you soon!" Anna called from the cutter, waving to her as Kristoff pulled the sled away from the castle to the resounding cheers of the crowd. Elsa waved, smiling as they disappeared into the night, though she couldn't suppress the apprehension she suddenly felt. The last time she'd said goodbye to someone, they'd never come home. She pushed that fear aside and said a quick goodnight to her Aunt and Uncle before excusing herself to her quarters, tiredly removing the gloves that she'd been wearing all day. Sitting at her vanity, she carefully removed the pins holding her hair up, sighing in relief as the pain in her scalp eased with each pin. Glancing around the room, she sighed.

Despite becoming Queen, she had declined to vacate her childhood bedchamber to claim the master suite her parents had once occupied. She didn't even like to go _in _there; the air was heavy as if their ghosts still lingered there, still afraid of the tremendous power their firstborn child had possessed. Elsa knew her parents had loved her, of course, but she also knew that they'd been terrified of her. It had been years before they died that they'd looked at her without a hint of sadness in their eyes. Regret that their daughter wasn't normal.

Carefully, Elsa unbraided the white blonde hair she'd been born with, letting it fall in cascading waves to her waist. She wondered whether it would have been brown like her mother's if she'd never had powers. Perhaps it would have been red like her sister's or dark blond like Father's had been. Then again, she didn't suppose it mattered very much now. The fact was, she _had _been born with powers. She would be different no matter what she did, and even if she did know how to control it, it didn't change the fact that it was still a dangerous gift. Her eyes fell to the brush she was holding which was suddenly rapidly covering with ice. Quickly, she let go of it.

_Gift. _

She shook her head, allowing a maid to help her out of the gown and into her nightdress, before climbing into her big, four poster bed and curling under the covers, willing herself not to dream.

Her eyes flew open to a frantic knock at her bedroom door, making her fly up in the bed and reach for her light blue dressing gown. She glanced at the clock which indicated it was just before dawn and felt her pulse begin to race.

_Anna. _

Something had happened; she was sure of it. Hastily, she opened her door to see a worried guard standing there and felt her stomach drop.

"My lady," he began, "I apologize for the intrusion at this hour, but there's been an incident."

"Oh no…" she whispered, holding her hand to her cheek. "Is it my sister…?"

The guards eyes filled with confusion, but he shook his head. "No, Your Majesty…a man was found washed up to shore. His clothes are badly burned and he is still unconscious."

"Send for the physician," Elsa ordered, turning back to get dressed so she could attend to the person. She stopped when the guard didn't move. "Is there more?" The guard looked down as if he were unsure he wanted to divulge anything more.

"My lady…" He swallowed, looking up again and wringing his hands. "It's Prince Hans of the Southern Isles."

Elsa froze.


	2. Chapter 2

**Gosh! Thank you so much for the response! Did _not _expect this to get so many reviews. You guys rock.**

**Here...a little Kristanna for you enjoyment as well! :) **

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"But I want to see!" Anna protested, pouting.

"You will," he promised her, withdrawing the key Oaken had given him when he'd rented the cabin. The hulking man had insisted that the bad impression from their first encounter was a thing of the past and had happily offered one of his cabins for rent. Kristoff had offered to take Anna someplace tropical for their honeymoon, but she had insisted that she wanted simplicity and she had gone off on the advantages of spending their honeymoon cooped up in a cozy log cabin on the North Mountain. He knew what she'd been insinuating with that suggestion, and the thought of it made him flush with heat.

They'd been exceedingly chaste, aside from some stolen heated kisses and a couple of nights when Anna had crawled into bed with him after a bad dream and he'd held her until her pulse became more steady; even. But Kristoff couldn't deny that he'd been thinking about this night; looking forward to it. For months, visions of Anna's bare body had plagued his waking thoughts _and _his dreams. During his working hours, he'd found himself fantasizing about her creamy skin laid bare against dark sheets, long red hair splayed over the pillows, beckoning to him. Which then led him to feel guilty, because she'd look at him with such innocence, it sobered him. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.

It wasn't as if Kristoff had never lain with a woman. Ashamedly, he'd sometimes sought companionship on particularly lonely winter nights before he'd met Anna. Though he'd avoided people, he was still a man. Though, none of those experiences had even come close to comparing with how he felt when he was near Anna. They'd been nothing but quick attempts to fill a void that left him unsatisfied and feeling even more empty. More than anything, it was imperative that Anna enjoy tonight.

The door swung open, revealing the comfortable cottage, well-kept with a fire already blazing in the hearth thanks to the extra money Kristoff had paid Oaken to have it prepared for him. Pink tulips were set in vases on every available surface. The large bed was in the center of the room, perfectly covered with a hand-made quilt.

"Okay," Kristoff finally said, setting Anna carefully to her feet. "Open your eyes." He watched her eyes open, revealing light blue irises, bright with excitement. A squeal left her lips as she flung herself toward the king sized bed, flopping down onto her back with her arms out.

"I _love _it!" She exclaimed, sitting up and waving him over to her. Removing his top coat, mittens and hat, he gave her a grin, crossing to her and chuckling as she discarded her cloak, hat and gloves (which he immediately picked up and placed neatly on the hook near the door). "Oh, it's so perfect! The fire and the flowers…you _know _tulips are my favorite."

"I wanted you to have some springtime even though we're up in the mountains where it's always winter," he admitted, feeling his cheeks burn. She let out a tinkling laugh, warming his heart as she took his large hands into hers.

"Well, it's amazing," she insisted, pulling him down to sit beside her. "But you know what the best part is?" She reached up to brush a blond strand of hair from his eyes.

"What's that?" He asked, watching with wide brown eyes as she climbed into his lap, looping her arms around his neck, brushing her lips over his and sending a thrill through his body.

"I have you _all _to myself finally!" She grinned, giving him her most wicked look (which was exceedingly adorable, yet also irresistible).

"_Slow _down, Fiestypants," he laughed when she pushed him down onto his back, straddling his slender hips.

"Kristoff Bjorgman, I have waited long enough," she told him, poking him in the ribs. "As your wife, I demand that you consummate this marriage."

Kristoff quirked a brow at her, his chest rumbling with mirth before he flipped her beneath him, eliciting a yelp of surprise as he buried his face against the smooth skin of her neck. "I like the sound of that, Mrs. Bjorgman…"

"That's _Princess _Mrs. Bjorgman, _Sir," _She giggled delightedly as he cradled her delicate face in his large hand and brought his lips to hers, pausing before he kissed her.

"My apologies, Princess Mrs. Bjorgman. Carry on."

* * *

The singed, pathetic person that was brought into the castle bore no resemblance to the handsome stranger whom Elsa's sister had wanted to marry upon meeting. He was thin, clearly malnourished and nearly unrecognizable with hair that had grown well past his ears. A rough beard had grown over his jaw, giving him the appearance of a homeless wretch when paired with the burnt rags that he wore. Elsa quickly changed into a day dress, instructing the guards to take Hans to the South wing, as far away as possible from her Aunt and Uncle's quarters to assure nobody would stumble upon him until she knew what to do.

Of course, the obvious answer was to put him into the dungeon after what he'd done to her, but Elsa knew he probably wouldn't survive in the dank, medieval construct. He was clearly ill, and despite his sins, he was still a human being and Elsa was no murderer. Once he recovered (if he recovered), she would place him in a cell and decide what was to be done with him. What she couldn't understand, however, is why he was _here _and not in the Southern Isles, where he belonged.

When she was situated and dressed, taking a hurried breakfast with her Aunt and Uncle before they left for Corona, she said goodbye to them, promised to write and retreated to the South wing for an update. The physician had assured her that he would work with the utmost discretion.

"How can I help?" She asked, tying her hair back with a scarf and approaching the bed with uncertainty. The servants attending stared at her in mild shock.

"My lady," Kai said, shaking his head. "We have it well in hand, there is no need—"

"I want to," she told him firmly, though not unkindly. "I have a personal interest in this man's future and I feel it is my responsibility to see him through this." The older man bowed respectfully, though he looked like he wanted to protest. She spoke to the doctor. "What is the diagnosis?"

"Upon a preliminary exam, I can deduce that the patient is malnourished for one. He is burnt badly; I am assuming there was some sort of explosion which caused his shipwreck." The man adjusted his spectacles, "I have also removed three very large splinters, one which was very deep in his shoulder." He indicated to the bandage on Hans' shoulder. Elsa winced at the vague spot of blood beneath the gauze.

"Will he live?" She finally asked, unsure whether she wanted the answer to be a yes or a no. The physician nodded.

"I expect he shall recover nicely. I am already seeing improvement in his heart rate and color," he answered. "All he needs is some rest and he should be back on his feet in no time."

Everyone in the room shifted uncomfortably, clearly remembering his misdeeds. Elsa certainly didn't relish him coming after her with a sword again. The image still haunted her nightmares, turning to see his determined face with sword raised as her sister threw herself in front of his blade, turning to ice. Followed by that, she felt shame as she remembered that she had resigned herself to death. How could she face this heartless scoundrel? How could she ever look him in his eyes without feeling that same despair? He had wanted to take her _life…_her throne, and yet, she felt sympathy for him, hating herself for it. Undoubtedly, she would regret this.

"I will stay," she announced. "Once he is recovered, we will—" She was cut off by a hand reaching out and wrapping tightly around her wrist, making her shriek. Looking down, she saw Hans' eyes were open and bloodshot, glancing desperately around the room. They narrowed on her, filling with recognition.

"No…" He murmured. "You're not _real…_stop _plaguing _me with your incessant visions, _witch!" _

Searing pain spread radiated from Elsa's wrist spreading over her skin like rapid fire. She cried out in pain, pulling her hand out of his weak grasp, her jaw falling open as she saw flames quite literally coming out of his skin, setting the bedclothes ablaze. Thinking quickly, she covered the flames with ice, looking desperately at the doctor.

"Laudanum! Now!" She instructed.

"You aren't _real!" _Hans continued to scream as flickering flames erupted from his hands. Elsa quickly covered both of his hands in ice, binding them down, though the flames didn't stop and the ice was melting quickly.

"Hurry, doctor!" She told the man, who brought a teacup to Hans' mouth with shaking hands. In his thrashing, Hans spilled the liquid all over himself as the ice on his hands melted. Elsa recovered them, buying only moments. She moved around the bed and poured more medicated liquid into the cup, steeling herself.

_Fear will be her worst enemy. _

Perching on the edge of the bed, Elsa held the teacup in one hand and used the other to brush long red hair from Hans' feverish forehead. "I'm not going to hurt you…" She told him, making him meet her eyes.

"Please stop tormenting me…" He sobbed, tears falling from his eyes as his head rolled back and forth. "This isn't real…you're not real…"

"I'm _real…_" She corrected him, watching his pupils focus on her face, combing her hand soothingly through his hair. "Drink this and I'll go away…"

"Poison…" Hans argued, but she shook her head.

"No," she maintained. "Poison would be too good for you."

"Kill me, _please…" _ He begged in a broken voice, "I want to die."

"No," she returned in a cold voice, "That would be too easy for you."

He stopped fighting her as his red, swollen eyes bore into hers. Her eyes flitted to the melting ice on his hands before she held his head up so she could pour the laudanum into his mouth. Immediately, he relaxed, falling back against the pillows, fighting sleep. "Stop…tormenting…me…" He fell asleep, head lolling to the side and mouth hanging slightly open. The fire spouting out of his hands had ceased, leaving nothing but singed sheets, wet with melted ice. Only then did Elsa collapse onto her knees beside the bed, putting her face down onto her arms as she attempted to catch her bearings. She was aware of ice lining the walls and quickly took a few breaths to compose herself.

"Your Majesty!" Kai's worried voice came from behind her, but she put her hand up to signify she was fine.

"I just need…a moment," she told him. "Can you see to it that this man is bathed and shaved? He should be asleep for a few hours. I will not be far."

"Of course, my lady," Kai assured her. Elsa struggled to her feet, refusing the proffered hand of the doctor as she weakly made her way out of the room on shaking legs and asked Gerda to draw her a bath. She was at once immensely glad Hans had the good sense to wait until Anna and Kristoff were gone to find his way back to Arendelle.

"My lady?" Gerda murmured hesitantly, helping Elsa out of her burnt day dress, before unlacing her corset.

"What is it, Gerda?" Elsa countered in exhaustion. It had been a long morning.

"It's just that, when Prince Hans had your wrist…you…looked different for a moment," Gerda confessed. Elsa looked back over her shoulder at the elderly woman.

"Different how?"

Well, your hair…changed for a moment. It turned...red." Gerda looked unsure of herself as the corset dropped from Elsa's body, leaving her in just a chemise and stockings. Shivering, she pulled her blue dressing gown around herself and stared at the servant in confusion.

"But it didn't stay that way," Elsa noted, glancing at her reflection in the mirror. Platinum blonde hair hung in shining waves to her waist.

"No," Gerda confirmed, moving into the adjoining bathroom to Elsa's bedchamber to draw her bath. Elsa sat on the edge of her bed, listening to the running water in the other room. She had asked for spontaneity and she'd received it in the unwelcome form of a man who had tried to ruin her life. No handsome prince had washed up on the shore to steal her heart. A _villain. _Apparently a villain who had a secret similar to her own. Her mind reeled with the implications that Hans possessed power. What horror could he wield on Arendelle with the ability to conjure fire?

She was certain he hadn't had it when he'd been here for her coronation. He surely would have used it against her, wouldn't he? And then, the things he'd kept saying.

_You're not real!_

_Stop tormenting me! _

Something would have to be done to protect her kingdom from him. She needed help. Perhaps she could reinforce the room he was in with ice, though fire would melt through it. She briefly considered setting off a winter, though all that would really gain was making everyone else miserable. Snow did not stop fire, it could only delay it.

Elsa gasped, knowing what must be done, but first she would have to speak with the murderous wretch who currently inhabited her South wing.

* * *

Anna lay on her side, with her cheek against her husband's chest, listening to the steady ebb and flow of Kristoff's heart as she watched shadows dance on the walls of the cabin. Never had she felt so content, so fulfilled. She'd thought she'd known what to expect, but nothing could have prepared her for the blissful reality of her wedding night. There was so much more to it than just…well, _sex. _It was the heady sighs, the small sounds of pleasure that came from Kristoff that had made the experience perfect. It was the way he looked at her through heavy lidded brown eyes and it was the primal strength she could feel beneath his muscular arms and wonderfully large hands…and feet.

He'd finally explained to her why it mattered how big a man's feet were and then proceeded to prove it. Her cheeks grew warm with the memory.

Kristoff stirred beneath her, letting out a low growl as his eyes opened. Outside, the sun had just begun to rise over the mountains, making the sky glow orange. Anna turned her face up to his, smiling when his eyes opened, revealing tired but happy brown orbs.

"Why aren't you asleep?" He asked, running a hand down the length of her exposed back.

"The sky's awake…" she returned mildly, pressing her lips to his collarbone. "You're cute when you sleep," she added, grinning at him. Kristoff stretched beneath her, yawning.

"Shut up," he chuckled, using his other hand to wipe his eyes. She turned over onto her stomach, putting her hands on his chest and grinning up at him mischievously. "How are you feeling?" He asked, worriedly, waking up. "Are you warm enough?" He asked, bringing the sheets up to cover them, making her laugh.

"Kristoff, I'm _fine…_better than fine actually." She sat up, throwing a leg over his waist and getting a thrill out of watching his nostrils flare with acute awareness of her body. Anna made no attempts to cover herself under his heated gaze, instead feeling a rush of adrenaline at the power she held over him. He took her by surprise by sitting up and crushing their lips together, moving his hips beneath hers. She let out a small mewl of surprise, bracing excitedly for what was about to happen as she wrapped her arms around Kristoff's neck.

An icy blast of air filled the room as the door to the cabin flew open, revealing Olaf and Sven, walking in casually. Kristoff practically threw Anna off of his lap and covered them both with the quilt, throwing a murderous look in his reindeer's direction. Neither Sven nor Olaf seemed to notice that Kristoff and Anna were, well…in the middle of something. Olaf hopped up on the bed while Anna buried her face in Kristoff's shoulder, trying to contain her laughter.

"So what are we doing today, kids?" Olaf asked, kicking back. "Maybe a nice hike down the mountain? A little sight-seeing?"

Anna snorted at Kristoff's frustration, taking pity on her poor husband. "Actually," she began, "Kristoff and I aren't feeling to well today. I think we caught a bug on our way up here!" She added, faking a sneeze (badly). "We're going to have to stay in bed today." Kristoff's eyes slanted incredulously at her, but she implored him silently until he caught her meaning.

"Oh, uh…yeah…" He coughed, "It's a bad one." Anna noticed Sven give him a skeptical look, but the reindeer nodded his head to Olaf who sighed melodramatically.

"You two go ahead and have fun today though!" Anna added, giving the snow man a bright smile.

"You poor things…" Olaf said, shaking his head, blissfully unaware of what was actually happening here. She would have felt guilty if she wasn't so eager to have Kristoff all to herself. Olaf gasped. "Hey! Sven and I can go get you two some soup—"

"No!" Both Kristoff and Anna cried at the same time.

"Uh…I mean, it's a stomach bug too!" Anna improvised, shrugging at Kristoff, who buried his face tiredly in his hand.

"Oh, _Kristoff…" _Olaf exclaimed. "You look _terrible." _

"Thanks, Buddy…" Kristoff groaned, his voice muffled in his hand.

"Nothing a little rest won't fix, right Kristoff?"

"Mmpf," was his only answer. Anna waved to their companions, waiting only until the door clicked shut to pounce on Kristoff again.

"Where were we?" She asked, crawling back atop him, giggling at the pink flags of color darkening his pale cheeks. His hand wound up, twining in her long red, unbound hair.

"I _think _we were right here," he sighed, tilting his head up for a kiss. "But I swear, if that damned snow man barges in here one more time, I may have to dismember him."

"Kristoff!" Anna chided, snorting again, though her laughter was stifled when he flipped her beneath him once more.

* * *

Vague, fuzzy visions danced before his eyes, accompanied by muffled, unfamiliar voices. He was unsure whether he was sleeping or awake. It had been hours…or perhaps days…or maybe even several years; perhaps he was an old man who was so decrepit that he couldn't even remember his own damned name. It was always right there, lingering on the edges of his consciousness, but he couldn't quite reach it.

When he slept, he dreamed. He dreamed of a flame haired woman with cold green eyes, identical to his own. He didn't know who she was, but her voice was harsh and her manner cruel. Though she was beautiful, she seemed to wear a constant sneer than somehow made her less so. Yet, he loved her, longed for her touch; her praise, neither of which she ever gave.

Other times, his dreams revolved around a beautiful young woman with ice blue eyes and light blonde locks. These dreams were the worst, because her eyes were full of sadness; full of accusation. He found himself longing to touch her, to feel her cool touch on his feverish skin. This must be one of those dreams, he thought to himself as the woman bent over him, checking his wounds, urging him to sip mercifully cold water and speaking to him in soothing tones. Her voice was hypnotic, like a gentle breeze.

He did not know her.

"Hans," she was saying firmly, "You must drink this." He felt her fingers in his shaggy hair, supporting his head as she pouring water into his mouth. He drank greedily, trying to bring a hand up to hold her wrist there and finding he was bound. His eyes fell to his hands which were chained and encased in ice, likely to prevent him from burning through them.

"Who are you?" He rasped at her, "Why do I dream of you?"

Blue eyes filled with confusion, looking toward the physician for guidance. The elderly man shook his head, shrugging. "It's Elsa, Hans," she told him. Was his name Hans? "I'm the Queen of Arendelle," she added in a quieter voice, bowing her head and making her long braid fall becomingly over her slender shoulder.

"Have we met?" He inquired, lost.

"Amnesia," the physician inserted, earning him a suspicious look from the beauty. Elsa.

"He's lying," she said flatly, glaring at him through narrowed eyes. "I'm going to give you one chance to come clean." Her voice was full of dark promise. "Why are you _here?" _

"I don't _know," _ he told her pleadingly. "I don't know!" A creeping chill began to rise from his toes up toward his head, making him writhe in agony.

"My lady, the candle!" Another voice cried. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the flame of the candle grow larger and undulate with every gasping breath he took. Elsa stopped whatever she'd been doing to him, leaning down so that their faces were mere inches apart.

"If you are lying," she began, "you will never see the light of day again. Do you understand?"

"Yes, of course!" He exclaimed, nodding his assent to her request. "Whatever you say!"

"Good," she returned tightly, standing. "I have arranged for Edvard to be your valet. He will cut your hair and give you a shave. After that, I will have some bread and broth sent in. Once you are able to walk, you are going to accompany me on an outing."

"Where?"

The woman did not answer, but simply walked out of the room, her heels clicking on the floor with every step.


	3. Chapter 3

**OMG. Thank you so much for reading this. You guys are awesome. **

* * *

Elsa paced nervously, dressing in a blue riding dress with her long hair braided and coiled as she waited for Hans to be brought out to her. Truthfully, she hadn't felt such dread since the morning of her coronation. She longed for Anna's sunny reassurance and eternal optimism, needing some indication that she was doing the right thing instead of the nagging feeling of guilt in her gut. This man had tried to _kill _her sister, had left her for dead before turning his sword on the queen herself. Why should she waste her time with him?

"_Sometimes, my dearest Elsa, leaders must make difficult decisions. We must always think of the greater good."_

Elsa closed her eyes, wishing with everything inside her that she would hear her father's voice, full of wisdom, telling her which path to take. Ironically, it was her father's own path that _was _leading her. She was going to take Hans to the only people who would know what was to be done. They would surely take him off her hands.

"My lady," Kai's voice startled her, causing a thin layer of ice to form around her feet. She clutched her heart, willing her breathing to slow so that she could compose herself.

"Yes," Elsa answered, straightening herself and smoothing the wrinkles out of the blue fabric. She looked up, noticing that Hans stood beside the elderly servant, looking more like his old self than she cared to remember, though his modest clothing did give her mild satisfaction that he was no longer the well-dressed Prince he'd played at a year earlier. He'd been given shirtsleeves and a pair of breeches that were a hint too large for his slim frame (probably from the collection of clothing that had been made for Kristoff which had never been worn). The scorned Prince still looked weak and thin, but at least he looked like he wouldn't collapse at the first slight burst of wind. "You're looking better," she told him coldly. His eyes widened.

"…yes," he agreed, eyes narrowed on her as if he didn't quite trust her.

"Are you sure you can't be convinced to take an escort, milady?" Kai asked, concerned as he eyed the man suspiciously.

"Where we're going, an escort would only be a hindrance," Elsa reminded the kindly old man. "Come," she said to Hans, indicating her to her horse.

"Where are you taking me?" He asked nervously, swallowing.

"To someone who will know what to do with you," she answered, stepping up into the stirrup and mounting the horse. "You'll have to ride with me."

"I think I knew how to ride a horse," Hans mused quietly, eyeing the creature. "I can't remember ever doing it, but I think I know how." He approached weakly, moving very slowly, as though every movement pained him. One of the guards stepped in and assisted him up onto the back of the horse. The hair on the back of Elsa's neck stood on end at the proximity of him. She hadn't considered that he would have to hold onto her…or that she would feel his breath on the back of her neck. She tensed as his hands settled around her waist and she could feel their warmth through the bodice of her riding habit.

When they were out of the gates and heading toward the woods, Elsa finally spoke after letting out an agitated sigh. "So, you've really lost your memories?"

"I remember nothing before waking up on a boat. I don't remember where I'm from, who I am or anything from my past. The only thing I'm certain of is that when I woke, I set the boat on fire with my own hands."

"Yeah, I'm a bit curious about that one too," Elsa muttered, steering the horse onto the path that had haunted her dreams for the past fourteen years. Her heart sped up at the memory of that horrible morning when she'd struck her sister for the first time with magic. It had been the mistake that had kept her separated from the world for most of her life. It was a mistake that had led to a life governed by fear and uncertainty and had nearly killed both her and Anna. Elsa pulled the reigns suddenly to stop the horse, which made a noise of displeasure. Elsa turned slightly so she was looking over her shoulder into the green eyes of a villain. She spoke to him in a low voice. "If you are lying, I _will _find out and you will regret it." She watched carefully as his eyes widened, though she did not detect any hint of dishonesty in them. They were not the same eyes of the handsome manipulator she'd encountered before; he was just a man who was lost and terrified.

"I…of course," he nodded, "On my honor, I am telling the truth."

"Yes well," she pondered him warily, "as I remember, your honor wasn't something to swear by."

"What did I do to you…?" He asked in a hushed voice. Elsa winced, feeling a burning heat on her waist. Her eyes flew downward, seeing smoke spiraling from where his hands held her. "I'm sorry!" He cried, letting go. Black singe marks marred the lovely blue muslin. The horse bucked slightly beneath them, sensing the unease of its riders. "I didn't mean to…"

"It's fine," Elsa dismissed, closing her eyes and calming herself. The ice that had begun to creep onto the leather reins retracted at once. "Just try not to be afraid," she instructed Hans. "And you have to trust me."

"You're my only hope," he reminded her. "I don't even know who I am."

"So you say," she muttered, keeping her eyes on the path as the horse galloped through the trees with practiced ease.

The clearing looked much the same as it had all those years before, when she'd come that first time. The same rush of fear pierced her heart as she remembered thinking that if her baby sister died, it would be all her fault. She remembered the kind, gravelly voice of the old troll and the grim warning he'd given her parents. Her life had been ever changed after that fateful morning. One night, she'd gone to bed a happy eight year old girl with a bright future and a sunny childhood. The next, she'd lain awake in her bed, terrified of herself ever more.

Elsa was frightened now, though it was no longer herself of which she was afraid; it was the person with her.

She halted the horse and climb off of his back, gesturing for Hans to follow her, which he reluctantly did. She caught him when he stumbled, still weak from his plight.

"Keep close and try not to step on any rocks," she told him. His brows furrowed in confusion, but he nodded, keeping behind her as they moved into the seemingly empty clearing. "I know you're here," she spoke softly, "I need your help again." After a beat, she added, "Please."

"My lady," Hans' voice was hesitant, "there isn't anybody—"

"There is," she insisted vehemently, holding her hand up to silence him.

After an excruciatingly long moment, there was a distinct rumbling in the ground, making Hans cry out, which gave Elsa a secret thrill of satisfaction. She watched, still amazed as the rocks rolled toward the center of the valley, converging into formation, before the trolls revealed themselves. Elsa let out the breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.

"He's been expecting you," a female troll told her, waving them forward. Elsa looked back at Hans, nodding toward the female troll. "I am Bulda."

"Kristoff speaks of you often," Elsa told her, making the troll smile.

"My baby," she grinned, "I'm proud of that one."

"Let me see him," a weathered voice came from the shadows. It was the same voice she remembered from all those years before. Elsa urged Hans toward the old Troll King. "I wondered when I'd be seeing you, Hans," the troll told the young man, "I am Grand Pabbie."

"You're a…a…"

"Troll," Pabbie filled in, nodding. "Indeed." Onyx eyes fell on Elsa's singed bodice. Modestly, she wrapped her arms around her middle to hide them. He looked back up at a deflated Hans. "Give me your hand, boy." Elsa watched as Hans reluctantly offered the old troll his hand. "Fire, hmm? Not a curse," Pabbie said, closing his eyes. "You were born with this ability and it was changed when you were still but a babe…why I wonder? And by whom?" Elsa's mouth fell open in surprise.

"I…I don't know…" Hans admitted, looking helplessly at Elsa, who steeled herself to the innocence in his green eyes. The sincerity in them threatened to make her feel sorry for him, and she couldn't; _wouldn't. _

"Grand Pabbie," Elsa said, ignoring Hans and stepping forward, "He washed up onto the shore just last evening with no memories. He didn't even know his own name."

"Let me see…" Pabbie once again closed his eyes, clasping Hans' hand in his own, nodding. "There is darkness in you, Hans. You have done terrible things."

"No…" Hans gasped, shaking his head.

The troll continued. "But there is also good, I see…you are not past saving."

"What is to be done with him? Where shall I send him?" Elsa asked, eyeing the flame haired prince.

"Elsa," Pabbie let go of Hans' hand, moving toward her with genuine concern in his dark eyes. Elsa knelt so that he wouldn't have to look up and let him take her hand. "Your fates are entwined. Your destiny lies with Hans and his with you. It is up to you to save him."

"Me?" She balked. "Why would I save him? He tried to kill me!"

"Your fates were always entwined, dearest Elsa," Pabbie insisted, using his hand to create figures. "When Hans was born, two years before you were, there was a distinct path laid out for him by fate." His eyes bore into hers. "It led to you, young Queen. When his parents had his power altered, they did so by questionable means, which seeded darkness into the young prince's heart."

"P-Prince…?" Hans murmured in shock.

"A being that dwells in the darkest shadows of the forest. Alvilda." Elsa noticed a few of the trolls shrink into their rock covers at the sound of this name.

"Who is she?" Elsa asked, shaking her head as her mind reeled.

"Some call her a demon, others call her an elf," Pabbie informed her, "She is not to be taken lightly, Elsa. All magic comes with a price. You, of all people, should know this."

Elsa sighed in defeat. "What do I do? How do I fix this?"

"I cannot tell you," Pabbie murmured gently, "If I tell you, it will not work. You must figure it out on your own, young one. I am sorry."

"Can our fates be…separated?" Elsa inquired, standing and looking at Hans suspiciously. He cast his eyes down, red hair falling into his eyes in shame.

"That is up to you, young Queen," Pabbie told her. "The only person who can decide your fate is you."

"I don't want this!" She cried, burying her face in her hands. "I don't want any of it!"

Pabbie touched her arm comfortingly. "If you turn your back on this, child…you bring darkness onto yourself as well. I have seen it." Horrified, she looked down at him through teary eyes, feeling an overwhelming sensation of claustrophobia and helplessness all at once. For the first time in years, she wished Papa was there to wrap his arms around her and tell her it was going to be all right. To find out that this person who had hurt her so terribly was meant to be her…her…

She couldn't even _think _it.

But then, there was that small part of her mind, far in the back, where she thought of that small, flame haired baby boy who had been born so like her. Her parents had made her hide it, certainly, but they had never tried to _change _her. Somewhere, in the deepest recesses of Elsa's mind, there was a shred of sympathy for the baby Hans had once been.

She would help Hans. She would change their fates and then, she would send him away, where he belonged, even if it meant she would be alone forever.

Some things couldn't be forgiven.

* * *

"You know," Anna said, sitting with her knees to her chest in front of the fireplace in the cabin, "we could build a little cabin in the woods and live there. I mean, not all the time of course, because we still have to be with Elsa, but I'll never be Queen. I don't have to live at the castle all the time."

"We could," Kristoff agreed, bringing two bowls of stew from the cook stove and sitting cross-legged beside his wife.

"This smells amazing," Anna sighed, inhaling deeply and taking a greedy bite. Kristoff snickered when there was a little on the corner of her mouth, using the pad of his thumb to wipe it away.

"Thanks," he shrugged. "I had to learn to fend for myself. Even with the trolls…they don't really eat the same stuff we do."

"What do they eat?" Anna asked with wide eyes.

"Bugs mostly," he chuckled, chewing thoughtfully. "Worms are their favorite, though they'd never turn down a good grub."

"_Ew!" _She shrieked, making him snort with laughter. "Did you ever eat bugs?"

"When I was a kid, I got brave once and ate a grub," he shuddered, swallowing a mouthful of stew. "That was the first and last time."

"The grossest thing I ever ate was caviar," Anna sighed. "Mama was having some sort of dinner party for these diplomats that were in town and I snuck into the room, and stole a cracker and dipped it in caviar, because I wanted to be grown up. I ended up spitting it across the room and getting caught. I wasn't allowed to go outside for a week. It was the worst!" The smile left her face. "But it was only a week. Elsa didn't go outside for thirteen years."

"Anna…" Kristoff set aside his empty bowl and took hers from her hands. "You have to stop doing this. You have to stop feeling guilty, okay? Elsa doesn't blame you for anything, you know. It doesn't make anything you experienced less good or bad because Elsa had it worse, okay? That's on your parents, that's not on you."

"My parents thought they were helping her," Anna answered defensively. "My father was a good man, he'd never hurt either of us."

"Of course he wouldn't have," Kristoff placated, "But it doesn't change the fact that what they did was make things worse for Elsa by making her afraid."

"So, what? You're saying my parents were monsters?"

"What?" Kristoff's brow furrowed. _Not good. NOT good. _"Of course not!"

"You're saying that they deserved to die in that shipwreck? That they were abusive?" Anna stood, glaring down at Kristoff, who wasn't quite sure what was happening.

"I would _never—" _

"Well you don't know _anything _about my parents, Kristoff!" Anna fired, near tears while panic surged through Kristoff's veins, "How could you? You didn't even _have _parents!"

Kristoff reeled back as if he'd been punched in the gut, eyes wide and mouth agape. He'd been trying to make her feel better and all he'd done was to ruin everything. But the worst part was the sting of Anna's words. He knew what she really meant. He was nothing but a lowly orphan and no matter what he did, no matter how many titles he earned through their marriage, he would always be that lost little boy who'd been abandoned in the woods by the parents who hadn't wanted him.

"Kristoff, I'm so sorry…" Anna whispered, horrified, bringing her hand up to her mouth. "I didn't mean—"

"I'm just gonna…" Kristoff, gestured toward the door, grabbing his coat and hat. "I'm gonna get more firewood."

"Please, I—"

"It's fine," he told her without turning back to look at her. The slight sniff indicated that she'd succumbed to tears, but he was too hurt to care at the moment.

He whistled for Sven, who came bounding around the cabin, excited that Kristoff wanted him. It made him feel the slightest bit better for a second. At least someone would never turn his back on Kristoff. "Olaf," Kristoff addressed the snow man, "Keep an eye on Anna while I'm out."

"Yes sir!" Olaf saluted, skipping happily into the cabin.

Kristoff silently secured Sven to the sled, ignoring the imploring looks the reindeer was giving him.

"_What's wrong? _Oh nothing, except the fact that Anna just reminded me I'm a filthy orphan," he sighed. The reindeer seemed to raise an eyebrow at him. "What?" He asked with a defensive glare. "_You know she doesn't think like that." _He snorted, climbing up into the sled and taking the reins. "Could've fooled me," he muttered. "C'mon…I need to get more fire wood." The reindeer didn't budge as his eyes slipped skeptically to the impressive pile of wood stacked neatly at the side of the house. "Sven!" Kristoff groaned. "Let's go!" Sven didn't budge, turning to look angrily back at his friend. "_You can't just run away when things get tough. You have to work out your problems. She's your wife." _Kristoff glared at Sven, letting out a sound of irritation as he tossed the reins aside, unhooking the reindeer from the cutter. "Why do you always have to be right?" He muttered, stalking back toward the house.

Olaf was standing outside at the door, knocking. "Anna, no closed doors! Remember? Let me in!"

"I got this, Buddy," Kristoff sighed, patting Olaf's head. "Go take Sven some carrots. He deserves a treat."

"That was _fast!" _Olaf said, impressed. "Okay!" He tore off around the cottage. "Who's a good boy? Who wants a treat?" Kristoff suppressed a tired chuckle at the happy sounds from the reindeer. Taking a breath, he opened the door and let out a sound of surprise as Anna toppled out onto his feet. She'd been sitting with her back against the door.

"Whoa, whoa…" Kristoff bent down and pulled her up to her feet, looking down at her with what he hoped was his most apologetic look.

"I'm sorry!" They said at the same time, making him smile. Anna, however, burst into tears and buried her face in his chest.

"Don't leave me, please…I didn't mean _any_ of it."

"Hey, hey, hey…listen to me," Kristoff protested, pulling back and holding her at arm's length, stooping down so they were at eye level. "I will _never _leave you…not even if you drive me to insanity…which frankly seems quite likely."

"You were right about _everything," _Anna sobbed into his coat, her voice muffled by the thick fabric. Kristoff smoothed his hand over the back of her hair, suppressing the urge to bury his face in it and inhale the comforting floral scent of her shampoo.

"No I wasn't," he sighed, "Your parents were great people. I could see that the first time I ever saw them…and you."

"What…?" Anna looked up at him with red, watery eyes. She'd never looked more lovely to him.

"I never told you?" He nudged the door shut behind him, discarding his coat into a heap on the floor and scooping her up into his arms, taking her to the bed and sitting with her between his legs, his arms around her, enveloping her in warmth.

"No, you didn't."

"That morning your parents took you and Elsa to the trolls, when you were hurt as a little girl…I was there." Her eyes grew big. "Sven was just a baby and I was eight and I was just learning how to harvest ice. It wasn't long after…well, after my mother died."

"Oh, Kristoff…"

He smiled sadly at her, cupping her cheek. "Your mother was holding you and you were all wrapped in this blanket and Elsa was just _terrified. _She was so upset. But you could see how much your parents loved you both when they were asking Grand Pabbie for help with you. Your father was a good man, and he deserves to be remembered that way."

"Thank you," Anna told him brokenly, nuzzling into his shoulder. "Was that the day that Bulda adopted you and Sven?" Kristoff nodded fondly, thinking of that first truly warm night he'd slept surrounded by the heat of the hot steam vents with his head against Sven's little potbelly, listening to the even beat of his heart. He'd never felt so safe in his entire life…

Until the first night he'd slept with Anna in his arms.

She'd snuck into his room at the castle, and he'd been almost asleep, nearly shooting out of bed at the intrusion. He'd protested, but had relented, insisting that she sleep under the covers and he sleep atop them, which had led to her teasing him about it. He'd awoken early the following morning with her wrapped around him like a vice, the covers completely gone. She did this from time to time, but Kristoff never allowed anything to happen between them other than sleep. Anna was a Princess and she deserved better than casual relations with a man she wasn't married to. Not that she didn't try…but that was another story.

"I'm sorry that you lost your mother so young," Anna sighed, lying with her head on his chest.

"I don't really remember much about her, other than she was dark haired. I don't remember her voice or her smell," he sighed. "I just remember one day…she didn't wake up."

"What about your father?" Anna inquired tiredly.

"I never knew him. He died before I was born." Kristoff noticed her eyes falling shut and smiled, sinking further down onto the bed and putting his arm under his head. "Go on and sleep. We can talk more later."

"Love you…" She murmured, ending the sentence with a slight snore. Kristoff laughed, despite himself, pulling the blankets over her.

"Right back at you, Fiestypants."


	4. Chapter 4

The ride back toward the castle was not easy for Elsa. Her entire world had been turned upside down in one fell swoop. She was _tied _to Hans through Fate? Nonsense. Absurd. She could never accept that, especially because every time she looked into the guileless green eyes of someone whose entire identity had been ripped from him, all she could see was the heartless wretch who had tried to drive a sword through her and steal her kingdom. All she could hear was him telling her that it was her fault that Anna was dead; that she was a monster.

"Can I ask you something, my lady?" Hans asked, making her suppress the urge to knock him off the back of the horse.

"If I decline will you ask anyway?" Elsa replied coldly, making him chuckle nervously. Another annoying sound.

"I need to know what I've done," he sighed. "How can I atone for something if I don't remember doing it?"

"Look," she glanced back into his concerned, malnourished features, "Even if you did remember, you wouldn't be sorry."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"I've been watching people through a window for most of my life. I am a remarkable judge of character," she snapped, groaning in irritation as a lock of hair fell from her plaited coil. A sharp boom turned Elsa's eyes to the darkening sky. A storm was rolling in, and judging by the looks of it, it wasn't going to pass quickly. She considered, momentarily, changing it into snow, but that would do them even less good. The horse bucked beneath them when lightning flashed in harsh cracks against the roiling backdrop of the sky.

"We should find shelter," Hans murmured, glancing skyward.

"I _know," _she retorted through gritted teeth, "I'm perfectly capable of—_what _are you _doing?" _She watched him climb down from the horse. A drop of rain fell onto her nose, making her blink in surprise. Another crack of thunder sent the horse into hysterics again. Hans surprised her by taking the sash decorating the horse's saddle off and carefully wrapping it around the agitated animal's head, covering his eyes.

"I don't want him to throw you off," Hans explained, soothing the horse by petting his jaw. She glared at the back of his fiery red hair, both annoyed and uneasy. The next blast of thunder brought the gush of rain, soaking both of them and the horse within seconds. White blonde fringe stuck to her forehead in messy strands, falling into her eyes. "I think I see something ahead!" The horse tried to fight him, but relented, letting the prince lead him through the torrent.

Cold raindrops pelted Elsa's face, stinging the pale skin as she felt her hair began to come undone. In the darkness, she glanced around the wood, feeling a pang of fear because it looked unfamiliar to her. Trees seemed to loom rather than shelter, casting long shadows upon the ground. Hans' head was bowed, pulling the horse, his red hair matted to his forehead, shirt soaked through to the skin. Elsa's eyes fell to the reins, where her hands were clutched, and she gasped when she saw she'd nearly frozen them through. She squeezed her eyes closed, feeling like an uncertain eight your old girl again. Her old mantra chanted mockingly in her mind.

_Conceal, don't feel. _

She could feel the ice pouring from her body in waves, flowing behind them as they walked. She dearly hoped Hans didn't notice. Her thoughts turned to Anna, on her honeymoon. It was all Elsa had ever wanted for her sister; to see her happy and healthy, married to someone who loved her. Not trapped inside the gates of the castle walls with nobody to talk to but paintings and armor. Soon, Anna and Kristoff would have children. Soon, she would be an aunt and the corridors of the castle would once again be full of children's laughter, as it should have always been.

"My lady, I think I see something ahead!" Hans called over the roar of the downpour. The sky flashed furiously, before a long roll of thunder shook the ground beneath them, frightening Magnus. Elsa had to lean forward and clutch the reins tighter still, sitting astride the saddle and gripping it with her thighs. "Whoa!" Hans coaxed the animal, while Elsa's pulse raced.

_Don't feel. Don't feel. Don't feel. _

"Here." Elsa nearly flew off the other side of the horse as Hans' hand touched her waist. "Let me help you down."

"I c-can manage on my own," she told him through gritted teeth, bristling when he ignored her, lifting her down off of the horse. His eyes flitted over to the ice covered reins and the trail behind the horse, before meeting hers, but he said nothing of it. They stood facing each other in the pouring rain, each clearly waiting for the other to say something.

"There's a cottage just there," he finally told her, looking down at her. "We should wait it out there. You're shivering."

"I am n-not sh-shivering," Elsa protested, scowling in irritation that she was, indeed trembling from the cold for the first time in her life. The cold had always been her ally; something that made her who she was, but this was different. Her lovely riding habit was soaked through to the skin and she could feel the fabric of her chemise chafing against her damp, chilled skin. The thought of a warm bath and dry clothing seemed a far off dream for a moment, tormenting her. Another flash of lightning lit the sky as if the sun were shining for a moment, before a cracking sound turned her head. Out of the corner of her eye, Elsa saw the tall, shadowy form of a tree falling toward them, rendering her frozen to the spot. The horse darted away, spooked by the sound of it, while the vague realization that she'd been knocked to the ground dawned on her.

Hans' face hovered over her, checking her over for bumps and bruises. He seemed so unlike the heartless monster that had come after her sword in hand, that for a moment, she took his proffered hand, letting him pull her to her feet. Half of the pins had fallen from her hair, leaving it hanging unattractively in wet strands. "Are you hurt?" His green shone with concern, holding her by the shoulders. Remembering herself, Elsa shrugged out of his grip, wrapping her arms around herself protectively.

"I'm fine," she told him sternly, nodding toward the cottage. The windows were dark and judging by the condition of the wooden steps onto the porch paired with the spider webs near the roof, this particular cabin had been abandoned for some time. Reaching out, she opened the door, which swung open, creaking loudly. Her eyes fell on a small pile of wood covered in dust near the hearth. A broken down bed sat in the corner of the room near a meager wooden table with one chair. Whoever had lived here had long since abandoned it.

"When the storm passes, I'll try to find your horse," Hans' voice came from near the door. "No use going after him in this."

"No," she sighed, thinking of poor Magnus. He was smart enough, she had faith he'd find some shelter. "I suppose not." Pushing the hair that had fallen out of her face, Elsa removed the sopping wet jacket of her riding habit and draped it over the dusty chair. Her blouse wasn't much better off, clinging to her arms uncomfortably. Hans moved toward the fireplace, crouching and attempting to spark a flame with two twigs, to no avail. The rain fell harder still, hitting the roof of the cottage with furious intensity. Elsa had never been thrilled with thunderstorms. The noise had always unsettled her as a child, and had left her tormented with worry over what little control she had over her ability. Her eyes fell to the riding gloves she'd discarded with her jacket.

_Conceal, don't feel. _

Sometimes Elsa wondered if she would ever stop thinking those words. She no longer believed them, but it had been her mantra for so long, it was a hard habit to break.

Her eyes fell on the back of Hans' bowed head as he worked on starting a fire. She could see he was still weak from whatever had left him on the shore last evening. His hands were clumsy and she could tell from across the room that they were shaking with exhaustion. Scowling, she crossed the distance between them, bending down to see. The flames he produced with the twigs were too small, flickering out almost instantly in the damp air. She glanced back at her riding jacket, seeing the scorch marks from when he'd burnt her on the way to see the trolls.

"Fire!" She exclaimed, almost clapping her hands at the realization. He looked up at her in with furrowed brows. "Your power," she clarified, gesturing to his hands. "Use your power."

"I…can't," he told her, wide-eyed. "I don't know how to make it happen on my own."

"That I can help with," she told him, easing down onto the floor beside him. Reluctantly, she took his wrist into her hand and guided his hands over the wood pile in the hearth, feeling his eyes on her face. Ignoring his stare, she kept her eyes on his hands. "Close your eyes. You have to imagine the magic flowing through your veins and out through your finger tips. If you can visualize it, you can control it."

He gave her a doubtful look, but closed his eyes, squeezing them shut. Nothing happened, causing him to sigh in frustration. "It's not working."

"Just concentrate," she told him, trying to keep an even tone. The last thing they needed was him to lose his temper and set the whole place ablaze. It was so old that it would probably go up in flames as if it were nothing but thin paper and kill them with it. His eyes opened, boring straight into hers as if he could see straight through to her soul.

"Tell me what I did to you," he implored her.

Elsa faltered, taken aback by his request as she let go of his wrists, shaking her head. "No."

"I need to know what to atone for," he told her so sincerely, she had to look away. "If you would just tell me…_please."_

"_If you would just stop the winter, bring back summer. Please." _

"_Don't you see? I can't." _

"Queen Elsa…."

A sudden surge of anger raced through her. She turned blazing eyes on him. "You really want to know?" She asked sharply. "You used my sister to try and steal my throne. You left her for dead and you tried to kill me !" Her voice lowered. "But do you want to know the worst part? You pretended to be a good person while _doing _it. You made my sister believe that you were worthy of her love only to deliberately rip it away from her. You were the _worst _kind of person. I don't even care that you tried to kill me, but you hurt the only person who mattered to me. And for that, I can't forgive you."

Hans stared at her agape, all of the color leaving his cheeks. The dark circles beneath his eyes became more prominent in the darkness, the obvious exhaustion from his plight aging him significantly. He no longer seemed a twenty-five year old in his prime, but an elderly man defeated by the years that he'd been living. He bowed his head, looking down into his lap as she she'd knocked the wind right out of him. Vaguely, Elsa noticed that the ground they were sitting on was covered with a thin layer of frost thanks to her outburst.

That's when she felt heat. Whatever emotional response she'd drawn out of Hans had worked and there was a handsome blaze in the fireplace. Her earlier anger was replaced by sudden relief as the warmth surrounded her, radiating through her damp clothing to her chilled skin. She wished fervently that she could discard the wet garments clinging to her body and dry herself, but there was no way she was going to sit in a darkened cabin with a man she despised wearing nothing but a chemise. Instead, she opted to pull her knees to her chest as she'd done many times before, though she could not deny that she was shivering. It was an unfamiliar feeling and one she didn't like. The sky outside gave no indication that it was, in fact, midday and not midnight; if anything, it seemed to be getting darker. Less time passed between each terrifying rumble of thunder. Elsa stared into the undulating flames, thinking of the way her father used to comfort her during storms.

"_When you hear the thunder, it's the sound of the thunder god's hammer striking a foe. He's protecting our realm from those who seek to bring darkness to the world." _

"_He uses his powers to do good for others?" _Elsa had asked, eyes wide with wonder.

_Yes, Elsa," _her father had replied, closing both of his large hands over her small hand. _"When we are given gifts, we must use them to help those who don't have them. For example, we are the Royal family. We have much to be thankful for, but all of our wealth is nothing without the hard work of our people. We must be generous and share that bounty with everyone. It is our duty and our honor. You will be Queen someday, my love. You must know this." _

"_Tell me more about the thunder god!" _She'd exclaimed, bouncing excitedly.

"_Well," _he grinned, pulling her to sit on his knee. _"There was a time when this land was run by an evil troll King. It is said that the thunder god's lightning drove him out of the land and began a time of peace…"_

Elsa's brow furrowed. She hadn't thought of that in so long, she'd almost forgotten about her father's stories. He'd loved to tell stories and use different voices for each character, using big gestures and making she and Anna giggle until their sides hurt. After she'd struck Anna with her power while they were playing, the stories had stopped, the sisters had been separated and that man whose eyes had been so full of life and humor, had grown serious and sad whenever he'd looked at her. It made her feel like a broken doll; still pretty to look at but useless, all the value diminished. She'd have given anything to hear her father's warm chuckle again; to see the gentle way he used to tease her mother, telling jokes and making her roll her eyes, though she'd never been able to resist a laugh or two. He'd called Mama "Lily Flower", which she'd pretended to hate, but would always end up giving him a kiss on the lips anyway. Elsa remembered thinking that if she ever got married, that was the kind of love she wanted.

Elsa yelped as she felt something cover her shoulders and realized Hans had found a musty old blanket. Though it was full of dust and probably any number of dead insects, the comfort was instant, calming her shivering. "Wh-what about you?" She asked, clutching the covers around herself. He shrugged, sitting beside her.

"I don't get cold," he murmured, not looking at her. Elsa noticed that he'd removed his shirt and laid it flat in front of the fire. She quickly averted her eyes, wondering how bad the scandal would be if they were found together in this state. Of course, they were sitting at least three feet apart, but the situation reeked of impropriety. "You're never going to warm up in that wet dress," he finally told her, looking sideways at her. "It's wool," he pointed out. "It's too heavy. You're going to catch a chill."

Elsa glared at him. "If you think I'm going to disrobe in front of you—"

"Look," he sighed, "I can't imagine what you must be thinking of me. After what you told me, I can't say I blame you. But I also know that I can't have you dying of pneumonia because you were too damned stubborn to remove your skirt."

"How do I know you aren't going to try anything…?" Elsa challenged, holding the blanket tighter still. Hans laughed sharply.

"Your Majesty, do I look like I'm in any shape to ravish you or any other woman?" He raised a sardonic brow at her, leaning weakly back on his elbows. "I can barely stand on my own two feet after that ordeal in the rain. The horse nearly knocked the wind out of me." Silence fell between them.

"Magnus," Elsa finally spoke with an exhale.

"What?"

"The horse. His name is Magnus. He was my father's." Elsa wasn't sure why she was telling him this. "He was a wedding anniversary gift from my mother right before they—" She stopped, clamping her mouth shut and staring at Hans, unblinking. His features softened in the firelight. "—before they died."

"I'm sorry."

"No," she sighed. "You're not. You just don't know it." Frustrated, Elsa unhooked the clasp of her riding skirt and pulled it off, along with her petticoats, tossing them aside. They fell with a heavy splat into a pile near the fire. She couldn't hold back the breath of satisfaction she felt as the warmth of the fire spilled into her chemise. At least her stockings hadn't gotten too wet, protected by layers of muslin and wool, though there was now the slight matter that her chemise barely reached mid-thigh, but at the moment all that mattered was how gloriously warm the fire was and how good it felt to be dry. Reaching up, she removed the few pins that were still left in her hair and let it down, untying the ribbon holding the braid together and combing her fingers through the unruly silver blonde waves. It still smelled like rose oil from her bath. Her scalp was still smarting from the tightly pinned coiffure that had come undone, so she massaged it with her fingertips.

She sagged in defeat before the fire. Yesterday had been wonderful. She'd watched her sister marry a man who loved her. She'd been smiling; happy. Never in her wildest imagination would she have thought that Hans would wash up (quite literally) into her life again. Never would she have dreamt that she would be going to the same trolls that had saved her sister for help. And she certainly wouldn't have planned on being stranded in a sudden thunderstorm with the very villain in question. Worst of all, she now knew that Hans possessed a power not unlike her own and that their lives were tied together by some sick strand of Fate.

Elsa turned her eyes toward him, sitting forward with his elbows on his knees. Though he'd lost weight in the nearly two years since her coronation, she could see that he was still well formed, though she noticed a few surprising faint pink scars over the tops of his shoulders and back. It was somewhat surprising to her to see a few freckles scattered attractively over his shoulder blades. Swallowing, she realized green eyes were on her, watching her; assessing her. Self-consciously, she tucked her exposed legs as far beneath the blanket as she could, looking quickly back into the fire.

The storm had to end soon…didn't it?

* * *

"Remind me again why we're doing this," Kristoff groaned, buttoning the top of his shirt and making Anna laugh.

"Because we were _invited, _Kristoff," she reminded him. "Oaken was nice enough to let us stay in the cabin for half price even though he knows we can afford triple the price he charges normally. The least we can do is eating dinner with him and his family." Anna touched his arm, resting her cheek against his shoulder and meeting his eyes in the mirror. "I know you still have problems being around other people, but it's going to be fine." She turned him to face her, putting her hand up to his cheek and smiling at the slight bristle on his jaw. "Because I'm going to be right there with you."

Kristoff surprised her by pulling her into a tight embrace, burying his face in her hair. He was a man of few words; sometimes surly, sometimes not, but Anna had come to learn that he was a quietly passionate man who loved with every ounce of strength he possessed. "I love you," he told her hoarsely.

"Hey…I know, I know…" She pulled back, holding his face in her hands. "I love you too. So _much, _okay?"

"You saved me, Anna," he told her brokenly. "I was so…_wrong…_before I met you. About people, about everything. You made me feel like a real person for the first time in…well, _ever." _

"You _are _a real person," Anna laughed, straightening his vest. "You're _my _person." She looked up to see the pupils in his dark eyes dilate. In the extremely short time they'd been married, she'd already become familiar with the implications of that expression. It usually ended up with her beneath him (although sometimes they tried other variations…)

"We could just stay here," Kristoff grinned against the skin of her neck, and for a fleeting moment when his lips touched her throat, she really considered taking him up on his offer. She could send Olaf to tell Oaken that she was under the weather…

"No!" She laughed, shoving at his muscular form. "You're not getting off that easy."

"You're telling me…" He muttered under his breath, blond hair falling into his eyes.

"I'll make it up to you later…" She promised, kissing his cheek. "I, uh…actually wanted to talk to you about something." His brow raised expectantly at her, holding her more tightly against him and looking down into her face with concern. After their argument earlier, she knew he was still feeling guilty. "No, no…it's nothing big…I mean it's _kind _of big, but it's not like a big deal."

"Anna," he sighed impatiently.

"Right, right…get to the point, Anna," she muttered to herself, "I was thinking, that instead of going straight back to the castle at the end of the week, maybe we could…extend the honeymoon a little…?"

"I don't follow," Kristoff said, sitting on the bed so that she was standing between his legs.

"I, um…what I mean is, I've been thinking a lot about…about my family." She cleared her throat. "My parents have been gone for almost five years now, and before I met you, I didn't get to see anyone…ever…other than a few dinner parties and a ball my parents threw for some diplomats that I snuck into when I was twelve. And then, my cousin came for Elsa's coronation and we had _such _a good time together, remember? You even liked her husband!"

"Well, I mean, I didn't really get to talk to him much—"

"The point is," Anna interrupted, "Rapunzel and I have been writing to each other ever since, and she's about to have her baby…and I just…I've never even held a baby before…like I've seen them, you know, people in the village have them…and I guess I _was _a baby once…"

Kristoff laughed. "Anna…"

"And I know that you have the ice business and Sven to think of, but I really just want to go and spend some time with Rapunzel and see the baby—"

"Anna!"

"But I don't want to freak you out, because we just got married yesterday, so I don't want you to think 'oh no, she totally wants a baby now!' because I don't, I swear! I just _really _think it will be good for us to see a new kingdom and Corona is supposed to be _really _nice—"

"_Anna," _Kristoff cupped her chin in his hand, chuckling, "Fiestypants…we can go." His eyes met hers. "Of course we can go. I told you before, don't worry about my ice business. And Sven can stay here with Elsa. She loves him."

"She does," Anna smiled, "She always makes sure she has a carrot with her when she goes out to the stables." She sighed, "I think she's lonely."

"I think so too," Kristoff agreed.

"When we get back, we should throw a ball for her birthday and invite a bunch of suitors!" Anna exclaimed, clapping her hands.

"One thing at a time, Fiestypants." Kristoff gave her a quick peck on the lips, wrapping his arms around her waist. "First Corona. We can head down to the port this weekend and book a passage." Anna squealed excitedly, flinging her arms around Kristoff and knocking him onto his back while she peppered his face with kisses. He smirked, pulling her lips to his and flipping her onto her back beneath him, trailing his lips once again over her throat. Anna's eyes opened wide as she swatted at him, squirming out from beneath him.

"Nice try, Prince Kristoff," she snickered, "But we're still going to Oaken's."

"Damn it."

* * *

**You guys...THANK you for your reviews and your faves and just...ugh. Thank you for loving Hans/Elsa as much as I do.  
**

**So, FYI, this is kind of going to be a crossover with Tangled if you couldn't tell.  
I work under the headcanon that Queen Primrose and Queen Lillian of Arendelle are sisters. (Queen and King of Arendelle are going to be named after Lillian and Walt Disney)  
**

**Surprises and fun stuff ahead (I hope).**


	5. Chapter 5

**Quick FYI: **

**There's a little Corona interlude mid-chapter. This will be important later. **

**Thank you, THANK YOU. For your kind comments and your favoriting this little endeavor of mine.  
**

* * *

Hans awoke to the sound of gentle rain on the wooden roof of the cottage. The storm had mercifully passed, though night had fallen, leaving them stranded together until morning. Or maybe it was morning? He was unsure. Sitting up, he wiped his face to rid himself of the awful visions that always accompanied sleep and stared into the dying embers of the fire. His dreams were forever the same confusing myriad of faces he didn't recognize and places he didn't remember ever being. Between the cold, red haired woman and the pale beauty he now knew to be Queen Elsa, they taunted him nightly. Now, he knew why; what he'd done. He didn't _feel _like a monster, but the way the Queen of Arendelle's blue eyes flashed with accusation made it clear that he was guilty. It was horrifying to think that he'd lost every piece of himself only to find out that his true self wasn't worth restoring.

This dream had been different though; he'd been younger, in his teens, perhaps. It had been dark, moonlight shining into the window of the bedroom he was in. Sitting atop the blankets, he'd marveled in wonder when he snapped his fingers and produced a small flame, faintly illuminating the room. For the first time in his unremarkable life, he felt special.

Was that true?

Now that he was fully awake, Hans couldn't remember why it was that he had never felt special. Memories seemed to linger on the periphery of his consciousness, ever present but just out of his reach. Names remained on the tip of his tongue only to be left unspoken. It was maddening.

His eyes fell back to the sleeping woman. The meager flame cast shadows over the floor and setting the Queen's pale skin aglow. Long strands of silvery blonde hair fanned around her face making her seem almost childlike in slumber, like a porcelain doll. He felt the strangest urge to touch the gentle curve of her cheek just to see if the skin was as soft as it looked. He did not remember wronging this woman, but he could not imagine ever wanting to hurt her.

Elsa stirred, stretching languidly, causing the hem of her chemise to raise dangerously high, revealing silky smooth thighs above her white stockings. Hans quickly averted his eyes, though the image was scalded into his brain. Of course, _that _would be the memory he would hold onto. Wonderful. Her eyes opened slowly, blinking away sleep as she took in her surroundings before gasping. A thin layer of frost spread around her as she sat bolt upright, clutching the blankets over her body to hide herself. He couldn't help half an amused smirk because she was so innocently modest, it was refreshing.

His eyes widened.

_Why _should it be refreshing? Had he known women who _weren't _modest? It made no sense, but he just…felt it. Then again, he _had _been a prince – or rather – he supposed he still _was, _technically anyway. He'd surely known women, and he'd more than likely lain with some of them. Princes never lacked for companionship; that much, he knew.

Hans watched out of the corner of his eye as the Queen quickly retrieved her skirt and pulled it on over her chemise. It had dried, though the lovely fabric was badly wrinkled. It was probably ruined. Standing, Elsa moved to the dusty window, squinting out into the pitch black night.

"The rain isn't bad now. We should leave," she told him.

Hans rose to his feet as well. "We should wait until sunrise. There are wolves in these woods."

Cold blue eyes turned on him. "You don't even remember your own name. How can you possibly know that?"

"Tracks," he informed her, folding his arms. "As we were leaving the Valley."

"I've been alone in these woods before," she snapped, tossing the thick curtain of light hair over her shoulder. It fell in cascading waves nearly to her waist.

"Regardless…" He began, seeing that she wasn't going to relent. "I insist we wait until daybreak."

"Then _you _wait here," she told him moodily, gathering her jacket and reaching for the door. "I'm leav—" Hans stepped in front of the door with his arms crossed, patiently looking down into her flashing eyes. Glaring, she stood defensively with her arms raised, probably poised to stab him in the throat with an icicle she conjured, or maybe her bare hands; he wasn't sure which was more likely at this point. Swallowing, he stood his ground, extending his own arms, though he wasn't sure whether he could conjure any fire on cue. It was a strange curse he had; when he wanted to use it, nothing happened and other times, it could occur at the most inopportune moments. The Queen finally relented, seemingly remembering herself and rolling her eyes.

"Fine," she sighed. "Daybreak and no later."

"Of course," he allowed amiably, exhaling and realizing that she could probably kill him with little more than a flick of her wrist, but she didn't have it in her to intentionally hurt anyone. (For which, he was grateful.) As she turned away from the door and moved back toward the warmth of the dying fire, Hans' eyes lingered on her long hair. It seemed a shame that it would soon be contained and pinned up, masking its beauty.

"Can I ask you something?" He asked, lingering near the door. She turned to look at him expectantly, though she said nothing. Hans took his chance. "If I wanted your kingdom, why would I pursue your sister?" At her startled expression, he quickly added, "I'm just trying to make sense of it. You're the Queen. Why not just woo you instead?"

"Anna was an easy target. She's loving and open and too trusting, even now. You knew I would see right through your so-called affections, and I did," Elsa told him acidly. "I forbade the marriage, actually, though it wasn't actually anything against you in particular; it was more the fact that she'd accepted a proposal from a man she'd met hours earlier. However, the fact that you'd proposed did nothing to ease my suspicion of you—"

"Hold on," Hans interrupted incredulously. "We became engaged after _one _day of knowing each other? That's ridiculous!"

"Yes, that was sort of the reaction I was going for on the first take," she muttered, though he noticed the corner of her lip twitch slightly as if she were fighting a smile.

Hans realized he'd never seen her smile.

* * *

**Corona**

Passing the time had never been difficult for Rapunzel. In fact, she was _kind _of an expert. But, confinement was a different kind of special hell. Not only was she shut in, she was stuck in bed with the windows closed. Worst of all, she wasn't supposed to see Eugene, though that rule had been compromised and she'd fought the midwife into allowing her to have open windows. The truth was that confinement had awakened a strange new feeling of panic inside her. It had never bothered her, being shut away in a tower for her entire life, but every since…well, _everything, _the thought of going back was both horrifying and wrong.

She despised everything about confinement, because it was everything she feared; being locked away in the dark and hidden from the world. Of course, she knew it was all worth it to bring a baby into the world. It was a small price to pay to have someone who was part her and part Eugene, and to give that someone all the things she'd never known she was missing until she'd missed them. How naïve she'd been.

Being shut in also inevitably led to more spare time, which then led to thinking, which wasn't always a good thing. As her middle grew, so did her worries. It occurred to her one unseasonably warm April night that she'd been stolen from her cradle as an infant. Of course, this wasn't news, she'd known this, but now…she understood what it meant. Her mother had carried her for nine months, had endured confinement and nearly died to give birth only to have her child ripped away before she'd even been christened. Rapunzel didn't think she'd have been able to bear it. She'd woken Eugene, terrified, and sobbed until her lungs hurt while he'd held her.

Truthfully, this entire pregnancy had been filled with uncertainty. Shortly after their marriage nearly five years earlier, she'd been pregnant and had lost that child early on. Honestly, it had been somewhat of a relief at the time, because she hadn't been in a place where she'd thought she could mother a child. Not that she hadn't been saddened by the loss, of course. Her mother had been extremely helpful, unwavering in her constant support. It was something that, almost seven years after Gothel's death, Rapunzel was still getting used to. It had been a while since Rapunzel had found herself unnecessarily apologizing for things, but there were still moments of doubt that took her by surprise.

And then there was the hair.

One morning, a few weeks earlier, she'd woken to Pascal tugging her hair desperately; an old habit of his when something was wrong. Eugene was still out cold, snoring slightly in the warm light of dawn. Pascal was yellow for some reason, which was weird because there wasn't anything yellow in the room aside from the sun designs on the canopy of the bed. Sitting up, she'd wiped her eyes and dropped a peck on Pascal's head, though he continued to gesture wildly, pointing to his head. Frowning, she checked him over, seeing nothing wrong with his head. Pascal shook his head before pointing to _her _head. Confused, Rapunzel reached up to touch her short hair, running her hand over the length of it. Her eyes widened when she followed it all the way to her shoulder. Eyes wide, she'd turned to look at her reflection in the mirror…

…and screamed.

She was _blonde! _And her hair was longer, nearly six inches longer. Eugene had shot up in the bed, taken one look at her and opened his own mouth to scream.

"_Don't _freak out!" She'd told him quietly, glancing toward the door and envisioning the entire fleet of guards bursting through the doors to find Rapunzel clutching her pet chameleon in one hand, her newly long(ish) blonde hair in the other and her husband having a mental breakdown. That would just be _wonderful. _The scream died in his throat, though his mouth still hung open.

"How…?"

"I don't know," she'd cut him off.

"Wha—"

"I don't _know." _

"You're _blonde, _Blondie!" He'd told her in horror. Rapunzel set Pascal down on the bed, rolling her eyes.

"My eyes _do _work, Eugene," she had reminded him, crossing her arms over her impressively swollen middle. She gasped, making Pascal jump straight up in the air. "What if it's…what if the power is back?" Eugene looked slightly ill while she'd struggled to climb back up into the bed and started to sing, keeping her eyes on the reflection in the mirror. The blonde hair remained glossy, but it was not glowing. They sagged in relief together.

There was a frantic knock at her bedroom door, followed by her mother's voice. "Rapunzel? Is everything alright? The guard told us he heard you scream!"

"Ugh, this is perfect," Eugene groaned, lying back against the pillows with his arm over his eyes. Rapunzel had crossed to open the door, finding both parents in their nightclothes standing there. They both gaped at the sight of her.

"Does it look that bad?" She'd asked, frowning and touching the shoulder length tresses. The Queen immediately composed herself. "Of course it doesn't look bad, Darling. It's just…surprising."

"And…_blonde…" _The King had added, dazed.

Her mother had smacked him sternly on the arm. "_Thomas." _

In the weeks since, the blonde had remained and the growth had slowed. It was still just below her shoulders, but Rapunzel had to admit that it was nice to have it there again. She felt like her old self, but even better because she didn't have to brush a thousand pounds of it. Being stuck in this confinement though, wasn't much better. She was most definitely looking forward to the arrival of this remarkably active baby, but she _really _hoped it was soon. Especially since her parents had been gone for a week now, attending her cousin Anna's wedding in Arendelle. Rapunzel had been sorely disappointed she couldn't attend, but she had promised Anna in her last letter that they would see each other once the baby was born and big enough to have visitors. Judging by the size of her, however, this baby was _already _big enough to have visitors. He or she also seemed to have more elbows and knees than one should.

Looking at Pascal, who was curled comfortably atop the mountain that was her belly, she sighed, making him open his eyes. "I want to go outside." He nodded sadly, pouting. "Eugene is stuck meeting with the Duke and Duchess of something or other, so he's not here to keep me company and _ugh, _I hate this." Again, her buddy nodded, though she noticed a little twinkle of mischief in the chameleon's eyes. "Are you…thinking what I'm thinking?" He nodded, grinning. "Good," she struggled to sit up, pulling herself into a sitting position. "Let's break _out." _

There was just one small catch…the midwife. A large woman, who looked strong enough to arm wrestle Hook Hand named Frau Berta, who was asleep just outside the bedroom door. Rapunzel could tell because Berta snored even louder than Maximus. Pascal, being the sweetheart he was, helped her get her slippers on while she pulled her lavender dressing gown around herself. Eugene called Berta "The Colonel" because she wasn't quiet in her dislike of him and her disapproval of his presence in the confinement room.

Enough was enough though.

Rapunzel had spent eighteen years of her life locked up. She was twenty-five now, and about to be a mother. Not to mention, she was the Crown Princess of Corona. As Eugene would say: She damn well deserved some time to herself. Rapunzel opened the door just a crack and made sure that Berta was really asleep. Judging by the half smile on her face and the roaring sound of her snore, she was out cold. Even ready to burst with child, Rapunzel was very light on her feet and slipped past the woman with no problem, satin slippers barely making a sound on the marble of the castle floor.

Rapunzel had very nearly reached the door leading out to the courtyard when she heard Eugene's voice.

"I'm not interested. Herbert never gave a shit about me before, so he can go to hell."

"But, he's _dying _Your Highness," another man pleaded, "After the death of his son last year, you are his only living heir. He _is _your father after all."

"He never cared about being my father until I became Prince," Eugene returned icily. "Because while that hell hole of an orphanage was just _lovely, _you can see why I decided to leave."

"Well, you understand, with social circumstances being as they are…and…and—"

Rapunzel stepped around the corner into the library. "I'm sure you can understand Prince Eugene's hesitation, sir," she said, ignoring the startled look her husband was giving her. "We will think on it and come to a decision together."

"Of course, Your Highness," the man squeaked with a bow, before giving Eugene one last look and disappearing out of the room.

"Okay, A. Why are you out of bed? And B. No we will _not _think about it," he told her, reaching her in three steps, placing a supportive hand at the small of her back. "You realize that if The Colonel notices you're gone, she's going to cut my balls off, right?"

"Eugene, _ew!" _Rapunzel laughed. "I'm sorry, I just…I couldn't _take _it anymore. I know confinement is just what women do, but I can't handle it. I just feel so…_helpless _in there. Like I used to, you know?" His eyes softened as he pulled her against the warmth of his body, resting his chin atop her head.

"Yeah, well…I hate it too, you know," he told her, "While you're living it up spending your days with Berta in bed, I have to deal with, well…_that. _You're gonna have to really start pulling your weight around here, Blondie." Rapunzel snickered, knowing he was just using humor to cope like always.

"It will be fine once Mama and Papa get home," she assured him. "Eugene…do you…do you ever worry about the baby?"

"What d'you mean?" He pulled back, looking down at her with concern in his eyes.

"Like…someone might try to…" She gestured in defeat, unable to look him in the eye.

"Hey, whoa," he said, tilting her chin up with the crook of his finger. "_No. _Nobody is going to try and take the baby. Not with Max and your dad and all of the guards around. Besides, the baby isn't going to be born with magical glowing hair. He or she is just a normal, seemingly healthy baby."

"Or octopus," Rapunzel giggled. "I swear, sometimes he or she feels like he has eight legs."

"Creepy," Eugene smirked, guiding her toward the open French doors in the library. "So, let's get you some fresh air. It just rained, but the sun's out now."

"I know, I can smell it," Rapunzel told him, throwing her hair over her shoulder. She was grateful the front of it was pulled back into a ribbon and out of her face, because she was feeling slightly overheated. It was pretty common lately.

They'd very nearly reached the door, when Rapunzel stopped dead, eyes widening. Eugene paused, looking back at her with a laugh. "Already need a break, Goldie?"

"No, I…" Rapunzel glanced down, feeling a slow trickle of something on her leg. "Eugene, I think I'm having the baby."

Nine hours. It had been nine _hours _since Rapunzel had been in labor. Nine hours since he'd rejected the father he'd never known. Nine hours ago, he'd been Prince Eugene of Corona; now he was Prince Eugene of Corona: Incipient Father, Nervous Husband and Generally Hot Mess. How could he be a father when his own hadn't even wanted _him? _And _why _the Hell had the King and Queen decided _now _was a good time to go to a wedding in Arendelle? Shit, they'd probably be lucky if they weren't snowed in. Not that Eugene didn't _like _Elsa, but the fact that she could probably castrate him via icicle with one flick of her hand was not the most soothing of notions.

And then, what if the kid was a _girl? _Eugene couldn't father a girl! He could charm the pants off a girl, sure, but _father _one? Gods, above…he was screwed if it was a girl. He'd be cursed to spend his days wearing tiaras and playing dolls with a little Blondie clone. When she grew up, he'd have to worry about boys and the rebellious stage and falling for bad boys to punish him.

Oh _shit. _He'd have to get a gun. And then learn to shoot it.

And that damned ogre of a midwife wouldn't allow him in the room, of _course, _so he'd just been pacing furiously, for the past nine hours. Max lingered in the courtyard, keeping him company and rolling his eyes as Eugene slowly lost his mind. He couldn't wait until he didn't have to see The Colonel glaring at him every day, accusing him with her beady little eyes, monopolizing Rapunzel's time. She'd already reprimanded him for letting Rapunzel leave the confinement room. Like it was _his _fault. Blondie was a precocious little shit. Everyone knew it. And it's not like he could fault _Rapunzel _for wanting out; it wasn't like she'd spent eighteen years in a doorless tower with an appearance obsessed psychopath who used her daughter's _hair _as an anti-wrinkle regiment.

Eugene took a long swig of the whiskey he'd swiped from the King's private stash in the library, emptying the bottle, before hurling it at the brick wall of the castle. Maximus raised an eyebrow at him. "Shut up," he slurred slightly, running a hand through his hair in agitation. "When you have a kid, you can judge. Until then, bite me."

_You're an idiot, _he seemed to say with his eyes. Eugene couldn't really argue there. He _really _wasn't drunk enough yet. He wondered how the King had handled Rapunzel's birth years before. Of course, the circumstances were different because the Queen had been sick, but it would still be nice to have some support here. Rapunzel wasn't even due for another week or so, but apparently this kid already had a mind of its own.

_Please be a boy…please be a boy…pretty please? _

The sound of footsteps (the first he'd heard in hours) nearly made Eugene topple over a shrubbery, though Maximus caught him by the back of the shirt and set him to rights. He stepped inside the door, noticing the housekeeper, Mrs. Boatwright standing in the parlor holding a bundle of white blankets, though Eugene wasn't really sure if that was a baby or a clump of sheets. The sound it made, indicated that it was a baby. He sagged in relief, ready to fall to his knees in and thank the gods it was over.

"Your Highness, would you like to see your child?"

"Uh, yeah…" Eugene nodded, though he couldn't seem to remember how to move his feet until Max nudged him from behind. He gave the horse a look, before walking toward the housekeeper. "Is it a…?" He actually had no clue what he was asking, because he had no idea whether the bundled creature was male or female. The only thing he was really sure of was that it was bald, save for some golden hairs at the crown of its head.

"A girl," Mrs. Boatwright finished for him. "Small, but healthy," she added, smiling. "Would you like to hold her?"

"Um," he looked back at Max, who huffed and nodded encouragingly. "Yes…?" At the strange look the woman gave him, he added, "Yes." He held his arms out, letting the woman place the bundle with the bald head sticking out of it in his arms. He was surprised; it was sturdier than he'd anticipated. _And probably full of poop, _his subconscious added. Though, when he finally looked into the baby's face, he felt something unfamiliar. All of the fear he'd felt was definitely still there (he was literally having visions of himself in a tutu, playing Princess), but he realized he was kind of okay with it. She already looked like Rapunzel, thank goodness, but he thought – maybe it was in his head –that he saw himself in there too. The shape of her lips was his and the cute little quirked eyebrow? Definitely him.

"Mrs. Boatwright?" Another maid's frantic voice came from the hall while Eugene continued to look down at his daughter, feeling Max's nose nudge his arm. "Mrs. Boatwright!"

"What is it, Frannie?" The housekeeper asked, "The Prince is holding his daughter for the first time."

"Apologies, Ma'am…but the Princess is giving birth to a second child," the girl told them breathlessly. That got Eugene's attention.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Twins!" Frannie explained excitedly. "Princess Rapunzel is having _twins!" _

Dear Lord, no…this couldn't be happening. Eugene was just getting used to the one he was holding. Twins?

"I must go!" Mrs. Boatwright exclaimed, following the girl out of the room.

"No, but…I…wait—!" He called after her, holding the baby. They were already half way down the hall. Damned if he was just going to stand here and wait another nine hours. The baby's eyes were open, staring up at him in confusion. "Sorry, kid. Lesson One: Rebellion." He instructed Max to stay in the courtyard until he knew what was going on…and became a father of _two, _apparently.

There was a flurry of activity outside Rapunzel's birthing chamber; maids and other servants standing around excitedly. They all bowed at the sight of them, offering congratulations. He nodded, clutching the baby to his chest. "I have to get in there," he announced. They stared at him in horror.

"But, Sir…men aren't allowed in the birthing room…" A girl told him in a hushed voice.

"Yeah, well…I've never been great with rules," He informed them, throwing the door open and entering the room. _Kind _of a mistake, because his eyes went straight to the blanket where The Colonel was crouched and barking at Rapunzel to push. Poor Rapunzel was flushed and sweating with a cold towel on her forehead, blonde hair matted to her face.

"Eugene!" She cried, looking relieved. The midwife looked murderously over her shoulder at him.

"_Out." _

"No," he told her firmly.

"Men are _not _allowed in my birthing chamber," she snapped.

Eugene glared at her. "You'll have to throw me out physically. Would you throw a man holding an infant out?"

"Please, can he stay?" Rapunzel begged, tugging at Eugene's heartstrings.

"Fine, but stay at the _top _of the bed," Berta told him acidly. Eugene shuddered, thinking of the horrors that were coming _out _of Rapunzel at this moment.

"So," he said while Rapunzel caught her breath, "Twins, huh?"

"I'm sorry…"

"Sorry…for what?" He asked, holding up the first baby for her to see. "For this? It's not what we planned, but it's not like we can't afford it…besides, you have to admit, we'll probably never be bored again. Then again…we'll probably never _sleep _again either, but ya know…"

"Don't make me laugh!" She groaned, sitting forward, holding her knees.

"Push! This one will be easier," The Colonel explained.

Eugene raised an eyebrow at her. "Have you ever pushed two kids out of your…?" He gestured downward with his eyes, earning a glare.

"I have six children," she told him gruffly. "Does that answer your question?" Turning back to your attention, she nodded. "Almost done, Your Highness!"

And then it was over. The room fell silent for a moment, and Eugene held his breath, holding his daughter closer, before Berta produced the second baby. Eugene was shocked to see a thick thatch of dark, curling hair atop its – _her? _– head.

_Two girls? _

He was being punished, he was sure of it. Two girls. Eugene Fitzherbert: Reformed Thief and Prince, Father of Twin Girls. He was doomed. So, why was he so sickeningly happy about it? The second baby was washed quickly and swaddled just like her sister, before she was given to Rapunzel, who was doing remarkably well, considering she'd just birthed _two _babies. In the future, Eugene would _never _admit that he had cried when his daughters were born. He would never own up to the fact that the mere sight of them turned him into a pathetic pile of mush. But right now, he didn't care.

"Thank you," he told Berta sincerely, choking the words out through tears. She nodded curtly, but her eyes were softer now than he'd ever seen.

"Of course."

"They need names," Rapunzel said, holding the dark haired baby, touching the curling hair on her head with the tips of her fingers.

"We can't just call them One and Two until they're old enough to realize?"

"Eugene!" She winced. "Don't make me laugh!"

He put an arm around her, pressing his lips to her temple.

"You pick one, I'll pick one," he offered.

She nodded, looking down at their dark haired daughter. "Luna." She met his eyes. "Your turn."

He looked down at the blonde baby, who was asleep and thought about those old stories he used to love. Flynn Rider had fallen in love with a girl who had golden hair the color of the sun. It fit perfectly. "Elena," he finally said. They both nodded, grinning and he took her free hand in his. It would have been a perfect moment if not for the strange odor that suddenly filled the room…Eugene's eyes flew open, looking down into his wife's amused face.

"Uh-oh..."

* * *

Both Elsa and Hans raised their eyes to the ceiling when the rain stopped; as if neither of them could quite believe the relentless storm had passed. It was hard to tell whether daybreak was near or not since the clouds were still black as night, but it was something at least. Her eyes fell on his form, dimly lit by the dying fire as he looked out the dusty old window of the cottage. In profile, he seemed so innocent and guileless. In all truth, Hans was exactly the type of man Elsa would have fancied in a simpler life. Tall and lean; athletic but not physically imposing like Kristoff. (Not that Kristoff wasn't a handsome man in his own right, but he was a bit too rugged for her liking.) Elsa had always envisioned herself marrying someone intelligent and charming; someone she could play a game of chess with and talk about books.

Books had been her window to the world as a child. She'd loved immersing herself in a story and imagining what those characters looked and sounded like. She sometimes imagined herself as the heroine, being woken by True Love's Kiss or fighting glorious battles. There were also books, however, in which the villain was redeemed. It was an intriguing notion, undoubtedly. _Redeemed rakes make the finest husbands. _ Elsa wasn't sure that was true, but it was still fascinating. Things like that just didn't happen in real life; they couldn't.

Then again, hadn't Elsa nearly _been _the villain not two years before when her lack of control over her power had nearly killed Anna for the second time in their lives? It was a long time gone now, but the images still haunted her; both from their childhood and when Anna had turned completely to ice. She and Hans were probably more alike than Elsa would care to admit. Both were cowards, driven by fear; both hiding beneath gloves and masks.

But, Elsa pondered, maybe the world wasn't all black and white. She certainly knew that while people did terrible things, sometimes there was a better explanation than good and evil. _Not, _she remedied, that it was any excuse to _murder _someone and try to steal their kingdom. The truth was, Elsa knew nothing about Hans then and she most definitely knew nothing about him now. She knew he allegedly had twelve older brothers and was from the Southern Isles. She knew now that he could conjure fire as she could with ice. She didn't even know his last name. (And no, "Of the Southern Isles" did _not _count.)

What she _should _do is send him immediately back to the Southern Isles so that his family could deal with him as they deemed necessary. Hans, villain or not, was not her responsibility nor her business. The only thing stopping her was what the Troll had told them; that their fates were linked and always had been. How different would things have been if the King and Queen of the Southern Isles had not turned to darkness to rid their son of something he had been born with. Elsa felt extremely lucky that her parents, while overprotective, had never made her feel unloved or tried to change her. Despite their distance, Elsa knew her parents had loved her. She was starting to wonder whether Hans had ever known what that was like.

"Can I just ask you something?" Elsa broke the silence, emboldened by curiosity. Hans' green eyes turned toward her in surprise.

"I can't guarantee I'll know the answer," he reminded her tiredly, sagging against the window sill.

"I know, I just…I can't reconcile the person sitting in front of me with who you are—were."

"I don't want to be that person," he admitted. "What you told me…what I did. I just…I don't ever want to be that person again."

"You can't know that once you get your memories back you won't," Elsa told him, sighing.

"You should send me away," he insisted, meeting her eyes.

Elsa shook her head, "No, I want to keep you close so I know what you're up to. The last thing I want is to send you to the Southern Isles and have your family come after me. What if they blame me for what's become of you? And then there's the matter of our entwined fates."

"So, what are you going to do? Lock me in a dungeon?" Hans asked dryly. "The lighting in the dungeon does nothing for my complexion you know." Elsa stared at him, blinking in confusion. "That's a joke…you're supposed to laugh."

"Oh," Elsa said, though she didn't laugh.

"You're difficult to read, my lady," Hans told her. "I think you hide who you really are."

"You know nothing about me," Elsa fired back at him, "My entire kingdom knows I have power and they've accepted me."

"I'm not talking about the ice," he went on, "I'm talking about _you. _Elsa. I think you're funny and smart and you don't even know how wonderful you are because you are so used to hiding it."

Elsa glared at Hans, her eyes burning because she had never felt so utterly laid bare. She didn't want him to be right, certainly, but what was unnerving to her is that someone who had no recollection of himself or his association with her could _read _her so accurately that not even she could deny it. It infuriated her; made her want to throw a blast of ice in his direction. But she didn't. She held her composure as she always did and blinked a few times.

"Like I said," she told him in an even tone, "You know nothing about me."

The sound of horse hooves drew her attention away from him, and they both rose, rushing toward the old door of the cottage. The sight of her horse, Magnus, nearly made her fall and weep with relief. She'd been so worried about him all alone in the storm. Elsa rushed toward the horse and pressed her lips to the velvety softness of his nose. She noticed that he was surrounded by the palace guards, who looked concerned.

"My lady," the Captain said, dismounting and crossing to her, wrapping her in a blanket.

"No," she sighed, "Give him the blanket." She nodded toward Hans.

He began to protest. "That's not necessary—"

"Nonsense," she looked into his eyes sternly. "You're still malnourished and recovering from washing up onshore. You're bones, Hans. Take the blanket." He opened his mouth as if to argue again, but nodded, gratitude evident in his eyes.

"The whole castle has been worried for you, Your Majesty," the Captain told her, helping her up into Magnus' saddle.

"I'm sure," she sighed. "Let's just put it past us, shall we? Nothing a hot bath and a good rest won't fix, yes?" The Captain nodded, glancing at Hans warily.

"And what shall we do with…?" His eyes gestured toward the Prince, sagging in exhaustion.

"He stays, for now," Elsa instructed. "He'll remain in the South Wing under supervision."

"You don't have to do this," Hans insisted.

"Yes," she countered, swallowing hard. "I do." She turned back to the Captain. "He is to be kept safe. Understood?"

The Captain bowed in acknowledgment. "Your Majesty."


	6. Chapter 6

A chill woke Kristoff, bringing him out of a dark, dreamless sleep after a very long night. He grinned tiredly at the memory of it, glancing down at his bare torso, covered at the waist with the quilt. Turning over he reached to draw Anna closer with him and realized he was gazing dreamily into Olaf's eyes.

"Hellooo…" Olaf told him casually, grinning.

"Argh!" Kristoff flew backward out of the bed, clutching the sheets around his waist so as not expose himself to the snowman. "What are you _doing?" _

"The bed just looked so warm and comfy, I wanted to try it out! You and Anna never seem to want to leave it," he pointed out, making Kristoff cringe. "So, I wanted to see what all the fuss is about." Olaf's eyes narrowed. "Wait a sec, what are you wearing? You don't have any _clothes _on!"

"This day just gets better and better," Kristoff muttered, glaring at Olaf. "_Where _is _Anna!" _

"Whoa there, big guy…let's just breathe and talk it out," the infuriating little snowball said, "Anna and Sven headed out a couple hours ago to Oaken's Post so she could have them let Elsa know we're going to Corona!" He hopped off of the bed, "I hear it's really warm there. Have you heard that? I was thinking we could—"

"Olaf," Kristoff sighed, "You and Sven are staying here this time," he said gently. When the snowman's face fell, he quickly added, "Not that we don't love _having _you with us, it's just…" Kristoff thought for a moment, before he had an idea. "I haven't spent a lot of time apart from Sven, and obviously I can't take him on a ship for four days, so I figured since you and him are so _close _now, maybe you could keep him company while we're gone?"

"Oh!" Olaf brightened, nodding. "Of course! I'll give him a kiss and a hug from you every day!"

Kristoff made a face. "Ew, no. You don't have to…don't do that. Just keep him company," he repeated, fighting frustration. Olaf gave him a blank look.

"I've seen you let that reindeer lick you on the mouth," he pointed out. "And Sven's breath is almost as questionable as yours!"

"_Hey! _My breath smells fine!" Kristoff cried defensively.

"Don't worry, Kristoff! You can count on me!" Olaf exclaimed happily, completely ignoring Kristoff's defense. Anna certainly never complained and he made sure he always smelled good for her now, so he was _pretty _sure his breath didn't stink…

"Does my breath really smell that bad?" He asked, distracted as he perched on the edge of the bed, still clutching the sheets around his waist.

"I don't actually know," Olaf told him with a shrug. "I have a carrot for a nose."

"Good point," Kristoff sighed just as the door opened and Anna hurried in, her freckled face flush from the cold, mountain air.

"Hey, Anna!" Olaf cried excitedly. "Have you seen Kristoff's clothes? He must've lost them because he's _naked." _

"Oh, geez," Kristoff flopped back against the pillows, hiding his face with his arm. Anna's giggle filled the cabin warmly.

"Well," the snowman announced, "I'd better go tell Sven the news about us staying behind while you guys go to Corona."

"Good idea," Kristoff agreed, though he'd already told Sven yesterday.

"I got you a little surprise at the trading post," Anna added when he passed her. "Sven has it for you." Olaf gasped, clapping his hands and scurrying from the cabin, closing the door behind him. "Sorry I didn't tell you where I went," she told him, hanging her cloak over a chair and stepping out of her boots, tripping slightly as she tugged at them. It made Kristoff grin because it was so _her. _"You were just so peaceful, and I thought I'd be back before you woke up."

"Oh, no…it was fine," he assured her, sitting up again. "I'll admit waking up next to Olaf was a little weird—"

"Wait, _what?" _Anna giggled.

Kristoff nodded. "I turned over to…erm…I was looking for you and…there he was."

"Oh my _goodness!" _She guffawed, hitting him with each syllable. "No wonder my side of the bed is all damp," she added.

"Hmm, yeah," Kristoff hoisted her over him by the waist so that she was straddling his middle. "Guess you'll have to stay on _my _side of the bed."

Anna laughed, spluttering in meager protest. "Oh, no…I…_oh!" _His hand had found the waistband of her drawers beneath her layers of skirt and had slipped inside. Amazing how much two people could learn about each other in just under a week.

"So, is everything all set with the travel plans then?" Kristoff asked, untying the ribbon holding her drawers together and dragging them off of her completely while she giggled.

"Yes, we leave tomorrow afternoon, and—" She gasped in surprise as he flipped her beneath him, pulling up the hem of her skirts.

"Hold this," he instructed, "Keep talking. I'm listening…intently." He gave her a smirk, before lowering himself onto the bed.

* * *

In just five days, Rapunzel had come to cherish the quiet moments just before dawn, when the entire castle was quiet and the babies were sleeping. The problem was that they were up every two hours or so _before _that, and if one started crying, the other followed suit. She'd thought they were prepared to be parents after almost five years of marriage, but nothing could have prepared her for _two. _Not that she was complaining, of course. She adored every coo; every new face they made; she didn't even mind changing their linens, really. Even Eugene, who was decidedly _not _the definition of a morning person, had surprised her by helping take care of them with no fuss. According to the maids, it was rare that a husband help with the care of infants, and even rarer for a royal couple to care for their own. Which confused Rapunzel, because who _should _care for a baby but his or her parents? The mere thought of somebody else nursing her children made her want to cry. She was their _mother. _Royalty or not, she was going to nurse her own babies, despite the sleep that she so desperately was lacking.

To be fair, the babies were remarkably mild mannered. They didn't cry often; only when they were hungry or needed to be changed. Elena in particular was a very content infant. Luna was the more volatile of the two, but Rapunzel thought the dark haired baby might just be afraid of thunderstorms. There had been five thunderstorms in the past five days and Luna had wailed through all of them, only stopping when they were over. It was unusual weather for Corona, that was for sure, but it _was _nearly summer and, being on the water, a storm or two was inevitable.

Eugene stirred in the bed beside her, groaning into his pillow before opening an eye at her. "What's up, Blondie?"

A tired smile curved her lips. "You can't call me that anymore. My hair's brown again," she reminded him, holding her long, dark braid in her hand. The blonde hair that had come with her pregnancy had gone back to normal almost immediately after the birth. The hair however, seemed to have regained its ability to grow naturally.

"You'll always be Blondie to me," he told her, making her laugh because his voice was muffled in his pillow and he was already halfway on his way back to sleep. "Why you awake?"

"Just enjoying the quiet," she mused, glancing toward the door that led into the adjoining nursery.

"In the middle of the night?" Eugene asked with his eyes closed, turning to lie on his back with his arm draped across his forehead.

"Eugene, it's nearly sunrise," she giggled, shaking her head.

"But we just went to bed," he whined, cracking one eye open and looking out the open window to see the night sky partially illuminated by the first rays of sunlight coming over the horizon. "Damn it."

Rapunzel rose from the bed, drawing her lavender dressing gown around her (thankfully smaller) body, and padded over the plush carpet to the nursery door, peering into the room. After the unexpected arrival of the second baby, Mrs. Boatwright had sent for another cradle which had been retrieved in record time and the lovely nursery that she and her mother had so painstakingly decorated with suns and moons and stars became a nursery for _two _princesses instead of one. One thing was for certain, neither little girl would ever be lonely. _Like I was…_she added silently, though pushed the thought away, because it was long past. In a way, Rapunzel was glad her parents hadn't had any other children after her disappearance, because she had no idea how to be a sibling, and she had the nagging feeling that they wouldn't be too happy about their older sister swooping back into their lives and taking the crown.

Taking care, she walked softly across the room, peering into the first cradle. Elena lay on her back with her golden curls bright against the royal purple of the blanket beneath her tiny body. Even at five days old, she exuded a serene, almost calming presence. She was a breathtakingly beautiful baby, reminding Rapunzel of the porcelain baby dolls she'd seen in the village. The baby's eyes were open, staring calmly up at Rapunzel, making her smile.

"Good morning," she whispered, touching Elena's velvety soft pink cheek. The baby opened her mouth, revealing shiny pink gums.

"I'll take her while you feed Luna," Eugene said hoarsely from the doorway, dressed in his robe, bare legs and feet sticking out from beneath it. It was almost comical seeing the reformed thief formerly known as Flynn Rider, dressed in bedclothes with his hair tousled from sleep and holding an infant. "Come on, Princess...might as well watch the sunrise if we're up at this ungodly hour." Rapunzel rolled her eyes, turning her eyes to the second cradle. She was surprised to find Pascal curled up beside Luna's dark head, watching over her. The baby was sound asleep. The chameleon put his claw to his lips, gesturing that the baby had just fallen asleep so as not to wake her. Rapunzel nodded, feeling a rush of love for her oldest and dearest friend. For some reason, the fitful baby seemed to be calmed by Pascal's nearness. Rapunzel touched one silky dark curl on the baby's head, taking care not to rouse her.

"Let me know if she wakes up," she whispered to Pascal, who nodded in agreement, curling up closer to her and keeping an eye on Luna. Rapunzel crept from the room, leaving the nursery door into her bedroom open to join Eugene on the balcony, where he was apparently having a one-sided conversation with Elena about how important beauty sleep is. Hearing her footsteps, he turned toward her with a questioning look. "Pascal says Luna just fell asleep. I don't want to wake her up."

"Ah," he nodded in agreement. "Well, I'm pretty sure this little heifer—"

"Eugene!" She scolded, laughing.

"What? _I'm _just saying, I'm pretty sure she's been trying to nurse on me, and trust me Goldie, these wells are _dry," _he indicated to his chest.

"Give her to me," Rapunzel chuckled, taking the small, though sturdy infant out of her husband's arms and walking with her back to the large, four poster bed they shared. Once she had the baby situated and feeding, she turned her attention back to Eugene, who was still standing on the balcony, his tired face illuminated by the glowing sunlight. She frowned at the dark circles beneath his eyes. This was more than just exhaustion; she knew that his father was on his mind. Lord Herbert had been lingering on the brink of death for nearly a month, according to his page boy. It was a disease brought on by the man's excessive obesity. It was no secret that Herbert was a glutton. Rumor had it that he was so large that he couldn't leave his own bed. The page boy had told them Herbert's limbs were swollen and red, and gangrene had set into his left leg. It would kill him within a fortnight. The problem _was, _however, that Lord Herbert's passing would leave his family in a lurch, since his son had died tragically of the sweating sickness some years earlier and his wife had been too fragile to bear any more children. Which left Eugene as the only option. Rapunzel understood why he didn't want it, and she didn't blame him. He'd been thrown into an orphanage and had endured all sorts of terrible abuse that he wouldn't talk about. It devastated her to think that anyone could hurt children, especially now that she _had _children.

"You know," she finally said to him, "you can go back to sleep. It's early. I won't judge." He turned toward her in surprise, looking slightly bemused as he moved back toward the bed.

"And miss a chance to ogle you going all bare chested?" He dropped a kiss atop her head. "Not on your life, Goldie. This is the most action I've gotten in weeks," he added with a wink.

"The doctor said it should only be another ten days or so," she told him apologetically as he sank down onto the bed, sitting up beside her.

"Rapunzel, I swear to God, if there is an 'I'm sorry' tacked onto the end of that sentence, I may have to send for that terrifying midwife you had and have her knock some sense into you," he quipped, shaking his head.

"I just…" Rapunzel bit her lip, wondering if she should tell him what she was thinking.

"What is it?" He asked, suddenly full of genuine concern.

"Well, I…heard Frannie talking to one of the other maids yesterday—"

"Oh, here we go," Eugene muttered dryly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"She was saying that a lot of men whose wives have babies decide to, um, you know…find..._comfort_…" Eugene buried his face in his hands, groaning. "…with other women, and I just," her eyes stung, suddenly, "if you needed that, I'd be…okay…with that." When she managed to look at him, Eugene's eyes were fixed on her, blazing. "I just…I know that you used to be…Flynn Rider, and I know how much women liked you."

"_Rapunzel,_" his voice had changed from normal joking Eugene, "I want you to listen to me, because I'm only going to say this once." His eyes bore into hers, filled with meaning. "Flynn Rider died the day I met you, because you are the only person who ever cared enough to actually know Eugene Fitzherbert. You were – no – _are _ the most special, caring, beautiful, amazing woman I have ever known, and it wasn't because of your glowing magical hair. It was _never _your hair that made you special. It was _you." _She noticed his lower lip tremble, but only slightly. "Rapunzel, don't you understand? You have _ruined _me for other women." Careful not to disturb Elena, he cupped the side of her face, taking her lips in a kiss that left her breathless. The baby made a sound of protest between them, making her snicker against Eugene's mouth, before pulling away. He raised a brow at the infant, shaking his head. "Greedy," he smirked.

"Well, she _is _your daughter," Rapunzel countered, grinning.

Eugene's jaw dropped in shock, though he was still smiling. "Ouch! Nice one, Blondie!"

A knock at the door caught them by surprise. Eugene rose to open it while Rapunzel modestly covered herself to continue feeding the baby. "Apologies, Your Highness," Mrs. Boatwright's voice came from the doorway, "The King and Queen have returned." Rapunzel brightened at once, excited to see her parents and hear all about their trip and the wedding. She'd been writing Anna for months about it; all of the details about her dress and Kristoff and of course, Elsa, who had blossomed over the past year and a half. It was a far cry from the quiet, buttoned up Queen they'd seen at the coronation. Eugene was still a little leery of her after being stuck there with the impromptu winter. Rapunzel had sort of loved it though. It had been the first time she'd seen snow and it was absolutely beautiful. She hoped to visit again soon and see her cousins.

Rapunzel finished feeding the baby, handing her to Mrs. Boatwright to return to the nursery while she quickly dressed, straightening her long braid in the mirror and nodding in satisfaction, before hurrying from the room to see her mother and father. They were waiting in the drawing room just inside the main entry, speaking quietly to the main butler. Her mother turned first, hearing the footsteps. Her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Rapunzel, but she opened her arms allowing her daughter to run into them.

"You look…different!" The Queen laughed, kissing Rapunzel's forehead and stepping aside to so the King could pull her into one of his famous bear hugs while she kissed Eugene on the cheek.

"She looks like her mother," he corrected, winking at his wife. "I see the hair's back to normal and…" He took her in, "We have a new house guest?"

"Actually…" Rapunzel giggled, putting an arm around Eugene's waist. "About that…" The color left the Queen's face.

"Is everything…?"

"Oh!" Rapunzel's cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "Yes, everything is fine," she laughed, "we just got a little more than we bargained for…"

"What do you mean…?" The King asked, sharing a confused glance with his wife.

"Two," Eugene finished for her.

"Two?" The Queen blinked, "You mean twins?" Rapunzel nodded, but before she could say anything else, her mother let out a shriek of delight and dragged both Eugene and Rapunzel into a tight embrace. The King joined them, chuckling.

"You know," Eugene began with his voice muffled against the Queen's shoulder, "As much as I live for these family hugs, I think it'd probably be good to introduce you to your granddaughters."

Primrose gasped. "Two girls? Thomas! Two girls!"

"I heard her, love," the King laughed, putting an arm around Rapunzel's shoulders. "I'm just sorry we missed their arrival!"

"The wedding!" Rapunzel cried, remembering and turning toward her mother. "Tell me _everything!' _

"Oh, it was lovely," the Queen replied, linking her arm with her daughter's as they walked toward the staircase leading up to the bedroom and nursery. "Anna looked so beautiful in her wedding gown, and that boy she married is so smitten with her. He reminded me of Eugene on your wedding day."

"Hey!" Eugene cried in mock resent. "I was _not _smitten. I do not _smit._" He looked down at Rapunzel, "Do I smit?"

"I'm pretty sure that's not even a word," she returned, rolling her eyes in amusement.

"Don't worry son," the King rumbled jovially, "your secret is safe with us."

A piercing scream echoed through the empty hallway, causing Eugene to break into a sprint, practically tripping over his own feet as he bounded toward their room. Rapunzel's pulse raced, though she still couldn't move quite as quickly as the others yet.

Mrs. Boatwright.

Her parents raced ahead, flying into the bedroom with Rapunzel close behind. She pushed her way through her parents to Eugene's side and froze in horror. Mrs. Boatwright was crumpled on the ground with shattered glass surrounding her, but Rapunzel hardly noticed because, standing over Luna's cradle was a hooded figure. It looked up at them, though all Rapunzel could make out beneath the hood was the hint of a feminine chin and a bottom lip. Before anyone could move, it flew out the open window, disappearing almost at once. Rapunzel rushed forward, looking into the cradle and sighing in sickening relief at the sight of the baby. Her mother attended to Mrs. Boatwright, calling for help. Rapunzel lifted Luna out of the cradle while Eugene took Elena. She turned toward her father, who had gone pale and looked dangerously like he might cry with his large hands balled into fists.

Suddenly, Rapunzel understood what her parents had endured when she'd been stolen from them. The significance of that loss pulled on her like a dead weight, eating at her conscience and making her lose her breath. Someone wanted to take her babies, just as she'd been taken and it had almost happened right in front of her. Her vision blurred with tears as she watched her father's expression change from devastation to anger, before he directed one of the guards to have Maximus meet him in the courtyard. The walls seemed to close in around them as Rapunzel met Eugene's worried amber eyes. He put an arm around her shoulder, drawing her closer to the warmth of his body, checking over the babies.

Luna let out a sharp wail just as thunder began to rumble outside.

* * *

It had been a week since Anna's wedding, and five days since she'd been trapped in a storm with Hans. Elsa had been avoiding her unwanted houseguest for the better part of a week, receiving updates on his health and condition, which was apparently much improved. Not that she cared. The only reason she kept up to date on him was so she knew how soon she could send him back to the Southern Isles where he belonged; facing punishment for his crimes.

Or so she told herself.

Truthfully, she was still troubled about what the Trolls had revealed about their destinies being entwined. But they'd never said Fate couldn't be changed. If she refused to tie herself with Hans, then that would be the end of it. Wouldn't it?

Elsa busied herself with preparations for the Kingdom Tulip Festival, lasting for two weeks; the first day of which was today. The Festival had been a tradition her father had started; people from the village would present their own grown tulips which were judged. The winners received a sum of money and a basket of foods from all of the local sellers. Today, however, Elsa was going into the village to visit the orphanage. She was going to bring each child a tulip from the castle gardens and read them a story. She was also bringing them a special feast, since they so seldom had anything nice. It was one thing Elsa wished she could change as the Queen, but the fact was that there would always be orphaned children and there was nothing you could do about that. It would be unrealistic to have them all live with her, so Elsa did what she could for them by providing funding to improve the conditions of the orphanage. It made Elsa think of her father.

"_Papa, why must we feed the poor? You're the King. Shouldn't someone else do it?" She asked her father, clinging to his hand, the air unnaturally warm for early April. _

"_Elsa, we are the rulers of this kingdom, and we are very fortunate. But, these are our people, and it is our duty to protect them. A good ruler is generous and kind. We must thank our kingdom for everything they do." The King knelt before his young daughter, "Elsa, someday you will be Queen of Arendelle. I won't be here forever. It will be up to you to carry on."_

"_But, Papa, I don't want to be Queen if you're not going to be with me." _

"_Don't worry, Snowflake," he pulled her into a warm hug. Elsa drew in the familiar smell of her father; apples and the distinct spicy scent of his soap. "That won't be for a very long time."_

_She turned her eyes up to his, imploring. "Promise?" _

"_Promise." _

Elsa closed her eyes, pushing the memory away and ignoring the stabbing pang of agony she always felt when thinking of her parents. She sat patiently while Gerda carefully pinned her long braid atop her head, smoothing the white-blonde hair down prettily. Today, she wore a simple lavender dress with sleeves that came just below her elbow.

"You look so like your mother, Your Majesty," Gerda told her, squeezing her shoulder affectionately.

"Thank you," Elsa told her, though she couldn't quite manage a smile as she stared at her reflection in the full length mirror. She squinted her eyes, trying to imagine a life without powers; with hard as dark as her mother's had been. She would have had her debut at eighteen; there would have been a grand ball where royalty from all across the lands would come and she would have danced with handsome young men. Perhaps one of them might have asked for her hand. She could have been married and settled by now, with a child or two. She wasn't getting any younger at twenty-three years old. She'd never even learned to dance.

Of course, there was also the very real possibility that she wouldn't be alive and Anna would have taken the throne had she been born with no power. At eighteen, she would have been required to accompany her parents to her cousin's wedding. She was supposed to be on that ship with her parents; it wasn't right that she was standing here while they were gone forever.

"I'll have the carriage readied for you, Your Majesty," Gerda told her with a slight bow, leaving the room. Elsa sagged in relief, leaning on her dresser for support and bowing her head. Would this never ending guilt ever subside? Would she ever feel completely whole again? Even though she had Anna, there was still a hole in her life that her parents' passing had left. Even despite the fact that Elsa had lost the close relationship she'd once shared with her mother, she so desperately wished she could see them one last time and give them the hug she'd been terrified of then.

"_Do you have to go?"_

"_You'll be fine, Elsa." _

But she wasn't fine. She was an orphan and a Queen, all in one fell swoop. Sometimes, Elsa felt like she had no control over any bit of her life and she was just falling and falling with nothing to grab onto. No anchor to keep her steady. She couldn't rely on Anna forever; her sister was a married woman now. She'd want to have a family soon. Elsa caught herself, realizing that the entire dresser was covered in a thin layer of frost. Closing her eyes she shook her head and composed herself.

"I am in control..." she murmured to herself. "Love will thaw…"

A knock at the door brought her back. She relaxed, seeing the frost had gone as if it were never there. Nodding in satisfaction, she opened her bedroom door to see Kai.

"Apologies, my lady," he said, bowing, "This has just arrived from your sister."

A pang of dread filled Elsa's belly as she immediately assumed the worst. The last time she'd said goodbye to somebody, they hadn't come back. Elsa was comforted by the sight of Anna's looping, feminine scrawl on the parchment.

_Elsa,_

_Sorry to worry you, I just want to let you know that Kristoff and I have decided to visit Corona. I want to see Rapunzel's baby and what better time than now? We'll be home in two weeks, just in time for the Tulip Ball. _

_I miss you!_

_Love, _

_Anna (and Kristoff)_

Elsa let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding and folded the letter, placing it into the drawer of her dresser. Straightening her skirt, she fixed her posture and followed Kai out of her rooms into the hallway. She was surprised when she came face to face with Hans, who had been dressed in a nicely tailored ensemble. She's supposed he couldn't stay cooped up in the South Wing forever, though it would have probably been more convenient. His overgrown red hair had been trimmed and he was clean shaven, looking far less gaunt than he had five days before. The color had also returned to his cheeks, highlighting the faint scattering of freckles over his handsomely shaped nose. Elsa reluctantly admitted to herself that Hans was a handsome man.

_Many beautiful things are deceptive, _she reminded herself. Like the red berries that grew on the outskirts of the forest. They looked delicious, but were highly poisonous.

Hans nodded politely to her, standing with his hands behind his back. "Your Majesty," he acknowledged. Well, at least he was still acknowledging her as Queen. She supposed that was a good sign.

"I trust you are feeling better, Hans," she said in as amiable a voice as she could muster.

He nodded again, green eyes alight with a smile. "I am, thanks to your generosity," he told her making her feel strangely uncomfortable with his kindness.

"My lady," Kai interrupted, "I was just going to show Prince Hans the gardens. Some sun would do him well and aid in his recovery." _The sooner the better_ was implied at the end of his sentence. Elsa considered this, and sooner or later, Hans would have to be returned to his family to face his punishment, though the thought didn't bring her nearly as much satisfaction as she would have liked. Glancing toward the Great Hall, she thought a moment before turning back toward the two men.

"Prince Hans shall accompany me into the village," she decided, "You're right. Some sun will do him well, and perhaps he can learn a little about our kingdom since he once wanted to take it from me."

Hans winced slightly, but nodded. "It would be my honor, my lady."

"Follow me," she told him sharply, crooking a finger at him and walking toward the doors with purpose. She could hear his heavy footfalls behind her, clapping on the marble floor and echoing through the foyer.

The warmth of the sun on her face was welcome, though she did put on gloves and a bonnet to protect her pale skin from the sun. Neither Anna nor Elsa tanned well. Any amount of time spent in the sun usually ended with blotchy red skin that was painful to the touch. Elsa ignored the hand Hans offered her, instead stepping up into the carriage unattended. Her shoe caught on the hem of her dress, sending her flailing, but gloved hands caught her waist, steadying her as she stepped into the open carriage. She wanted to glare at him for helping her, but she very well couldn't begrudge him the small kindness, so she gave him a forced smile as he sat across from her in the opposite seat.

"Where are we going?" He asked when the driver had started forward.

"Today is the first day of our annual Tulip Festival," she explained firmly, "We are going to the orphanage to read to the children and to bring them food and blankets. It was my father's favorite cause," she added.

"Quite a generous gesture for a Queen. Don't royals normally send servants for this sort of thing?" There was no scorn in his voice, only curiosity. Still, it made her bristle with indignation.

"My father used to say that it was our duty to take care of the people we rule over. A ruler isn't just someone to lord over others, but a protector," she explained impatiently. "It means more if we show how appreciative we are of them in person." A small nostalgic smile played at her lips. "I remember, every Christmas Eve, my parents would go to mass and then pass out food to the poor."

"You loved them very much," Hans mused, watching her closely and making her turn an embarrassing shade of pink.

"Of course I loved them," she answered tartly. "They were my parents."

"Some parents aren't very nice though," he told her in a quieter voice, his eyes staring past her, suddenly far away.

"How can you know that?" She asked, "You don't even remember yours."

"I see flashes lately," he admitted hesitantly. "When I dream, I always see a woman with red hair. She's cold and withdrawn, but I think she's my mother. I'm always reaching out for her."

Elsa stared at him, swallowing her worry. "Your memories are returning?"

"I'm not sure I can truly say if my memories are returning, but I do see things," he told her. "I see you."

"Me?" Her voice filled with alarm.

"Every time I close my eyes," he affirmed. "Sometimes, I see you crouched on the ground and I'm standing over you. I know I am, because I can see the shape of my shadow. Other times, I'm hurt and you're trying to help me and I just feel so guilty…so guilty." His eyes darken. "Even now, you're being so kind to me and I don't know why."

Elsa sighed in frustration. "It does me no good to stoop to the level you did before," she finally said. "How can you feel any remorse for a crime you don't remember committing?"

"Because I don't want to be that person anymore," he told her, sounding terrifyingly sincere. "If I were to die right now, I don't want to be remembered as a man who tried to overthrow a kingdom. I'd rather die a good man than a King."

"It's a nice thought," she sighed, "But, once your memories return, you'll feel differently."

"All of this happened for a reason," he insisted. "My memories were taken for a reason and I ended up here because I was supposed to. None of this was by accident." He swallowed. "I have to believe that."

"Then you're a fool," Elsa told him, though she didn't quite believe that was true.

* * *

**Okay, I'm sure some of you noticed the rating for this story has changed. I've bumped it up to M to be safe. There will be some stuff in later chapters, so I just want to give everyone a heads up that there will be at least one love scene in this story. **

**Second, I had mentioned this to a guest reviewer, but my headcanon for the family tree in this is that Queen Primrose (Rapunzel's mother) and Queen Lillian (Elsa and Anna's mother) are the daughters of Prince Philip and Princess Aurora. It was kind of fitting to me, because Aurora bears similarities to all three girls. She was taken from her parents and raised alone in the woods. She liked to go barefoot a lot. She's blonde. She was locked in a tower.  
Etc. It just made sense to me.  
**

**So it goes:  
**

**Philip/Aurora Children:  
**

**Henry**

**Primrose**

**Lillian**

**Primrose/Thomas:**

**Rapunzel**

**Lillian/Walter**

**Elsa**

**Anna**

**Rapunzel/Eugene**

**Elena**

**Luna**

**Anna/Kristoff**

**TBD**

**Elsa**

**TBD**

**Thank you for reading and if you're still reading the end of this AN, bless your heart. LOL **


	7. Chapter 7

Hans wasn't sure what he'd been expecting when Elsa had informed him that they were going to an orphanage, but he hadn't been prepared for it. The place was neither warm nor inviting, the wood worn and sagging. Sixteen small beds lined the large main room, each with a bin at the foot of it containing small toys and blankets; undoubtedly hand-me-downs from other children. Though the children were all clean, it became painfully clear that they were all too thin and sallow looking, wearing threadbare clothes and shoes that were barely holding together. A musty smell hung over the room, as if there were a layer of dust looming over everything. It was clean, but somehow…not. Truth be told, it made Hans feel terrible.

It was clear that Elsa cared for these children; her entire persona changed from quietly poised to open and playful as she presented the children with flowers, kissing the top of each small head. He hung back toward the door, watching her patiently give each child a piece of cheese.

"Did you miss me?" She asked them, guiding them toward the hearth where there were two wooden chairs set beside the fire. The children all responded with various cries of confirmation, hurrying to sit on the threadbare rug in front of the fire. "I've brought you a story today!" She grinned, presenting a leather-bound book.

"What is it called?" A small girl with messy dark braids asked. Hans took her in; noting that her pinafore looked like it was at least a size too small for her with three patches on it. He wasn't sure why it hurt to see the sad conditions these children were living in.

"This story is called 'The Wild Swans'," Elsa informed them, sitting down in the chair. It was strange to see the proper Queen sitting by a dirty hearth with her white-blonde hair braided atop her head like a crown, wearing a simple gown of lavender. She wore no jewels or garish baubles, save for a delicate gold chain around her neck with a charm on it. Her pale cheeks were flushed with color and her smile lit up her entire face, making her look sort of like he'd imagine a heroine from an old fairy tale. Or maybe an angel, but that was ridiculously cliché.

"Hans," Elsa's voice beckoned to him. He blinked, realizing he was still standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. She gestured to the second chair by the fireplace, and he nearly stumbled over his own feet, suddenly feeling like he was all lanky, awkward limbs. The children giggled at his misstep, though strangely, it didn't bother him. It warmed his insides in a way that made him feel like somebody else, though he wasn't sure how that was possible considering he didn't quite know who he was to begin with. Perhaps it was time for him to decide who he wanted to be. He grinned at the laughing children and bowed, making them laugh harder as he stepped through them carefully, sitting in the small wooden chair provided for him and ignoring Elsa's suspicious look.

"Far away in the land to which the swallows fly when it is winter, dwelt a king who had eleven sons, and one daughter named Eliza," Elsa read, "The eleven brothers were princes, and each went to school with a star on his breast, and a sword by his side…"

"_En guard!" A boy cried, pointing a play sword at another boy who looked remarkably like him. "I am Prince Frederik, the Conqueror and I claim this land!" _

"_I will defeat you, you coward!" The other threw back, clapping his wooden sword against the first boy's. "I am King of this realm. I am King Mikael, and I shall destroy you!" _

"_And I'm Prince Hans!" Hans cried, darting forward with his own sword in hand. "I am a Knight!" _

"_Go _away, _Unlucky!" Frederik snapped, glaring at him. "You weren't invited to play!" _

"_But I want to be a Conqueror too!" Hans insisted indignantly. "I can be your Knight!" _

"_You're a stupid baby!" Frederik taunted. "You'll just mess it all up." _

"_Ah, don't be rude, Brother," Mikael scolded Frederik. "You can play with us, Thirteen…if you can retrieve something for us." Hans squinted in confusion, noticing the curiosity on Frederik's face. _

"_What is it?" He asked. _

"_You must bring me Father's crown," Mikael informed him. _

"_But…but…that's locked up in a case in Father's trophy room," Hans protested. "I can't reach it!" _

"_Then you can't play," Mikael shrugged, turning back to Frederik. "Come on, Freddie! We can make Benedikt be the dragon!" _

"_I'll do it!" Hans cried desperately, wanting to be part of their play. "I'll bring you the crown."_

"_Good lad," Mikael laughed, sharing a glance with Frederik. Hans bolted toward the castle, taking a shortcut through his mother's rose garden and nearly colliding with a gardener. He muttered a brief apology, before sprinting into the open courtyard doors, and up the back staircase. His father's trophy room was just down this hall to the left; across from his mother's rooms. He slowed as he drew near, hesitating outside his mother's doors. Crouching down, he put his eye to the keyhole. He could see her lying against the pillows, once brilliant red hair muted and splayed against the pillows. Her eyes were closed. His father was out on a hunt, which meant that the coast was clear for him to enter the King's trophy room. All he had to do was figure out how to reach it. _

_Padding across the hall, he turned the knob and entered the trophy room, glancing around at the animal heads that lined the walls. He'd never understood why people enjoyed killing animals. Hans decided his best bet was to climb the bookcase next to the crown display and open the latch that way. He gulped, glancing up at the bookcase, which seemed significantly taller than it had just seconds ago, before he stepped up onto the first shelf. It was easy enough, pulling himself up for what seemed like hours until he was very nearly at the level of the case holding his father's crown. He gripped the side of the bookcase, securing his foot in a groove of the wood so that he could lean toward the display without falling. He had very nearly reached the latch, but couldn't quite get it open. _

"_What do you think you're _doing?" _His mother demanded, appearing in the doorway of the trophy room. Hans let out a shriek of surprise and lost his grip on the bookcase, trying to hang on the display case. It was too light to hold his weight, however and it began to tip. Hans knew he was in trouble. He could either jump and roll out of the way so the glass didn't shatter on him, or he could fall with it and end up cut. He chose the first, hitting the ground on his side and rolling out of the way as fast as he could manage. A searing pain spread through his arm like wildfire, leaving him to writhe in agony. _

"_You stupid child!" His mother railed, rushing forward. "Look what you've done to your father's display!" _

"_I didn't mean to…" He moaned, clutching his arm. _

"_You never mean to do anything, do you?" She snapped. "You've been a thorn in my side for the past eight years! Do you know that?"_

"_My arm…," he sobbed, trying to sit up. _

"_The devil take your damned arm!" She hissed at him. "You'll have more than that to worry about once your father returns."_

"_But I think it's broken!" He insisted. _

"_Well, you should have thought of that before you decided to ruin your father's trophy room, you selfish brat!" The Queen returned coldly. _

"_Mother, please," he reached for her, trying to take her hand. Her eyes widened suddenly, filling with something different. She almost seemed…afraid of him. _

"_Don't _touch _me!" _

"_But I'm your son…"He begged, meeting her eyes, identical to his own. She gaped at him, shaking her head. _

"_Get out of my sight…" she murmured quietly, turning away from him and bowing her head. _

"_But, Mother—"_

"_Go!" He rushed from the room, sobbing. He rounded the corner and nearly ran into the housekeeper. _

"_Prince Hans!" She exclaimed in horror. "I heard the commotion. What happened?" _

"_I…did a bad thing," he sniffed. "I broke father's case…"_

"_From the looks of it, child, you broke more than that," she eyed his arm with a sigh. "Come now, little duckling, I'll send for the doctor."_

"_Father is going to be so angry," he cried, letting the woman guide him toward the stairs. _

"_He'll forgive you, sweeting. Fathers get cross with their children sometimes, but they'll always love them." _

"_Not mine," Hans sniffled, "I don't know what I did, but my parents don't love me. They think I'm a freak. I heard Mother say so." _

"_Of course they love you, child," she told him, though she sounded less sure of herself. "There now…come along, little prince. I'll send someone along to clean up the mess. We must get that arm patched up."_

"As the executioner seized her arm, she made haste to throw the eleven shirts over the swans, who instantly became eleven handsome Princes. But the youngest brother still had a swan's wing in place of one arm, where a sleeve was missing from his shirt. Elisa had not quite been able to finish it. 'Now,' she cried, 'I may speak! I am innocent!' All the people who saw what had happened bowed down to her as they would before a saint. But the strain, the anguish, and the suffering had been too much for her to bear, and she fell into her brothers' arms as if all life had gone out of her.

'She is innocent indeed!' said her eldest brother, and he told them all that had happened. And while he spoke, the scent of a million roses filled the air, for every piece of wood that they had piled up to burn her had taken root and grown branches. There stood a great high hedge, covered with red and fragrant roses. At the very top, a single pure white flower shone like a star. The King plucked it and put it on Elisa's breast. And she awoke, with peace and happiness in her heart.

All the church bells began to ring of their own accord, and the air was filled with birds. Back to the palace went a bridal procession such as no King had ever enjoyed before." Elsa closed the book, smiling at the children. "The end."

"But I don't understand," the same little girl with the dark, messy braids announced, looking confused.

"What don't you understand, Mathilda?" Elsa replied patiently.

"Why did Elisa marry the King if he wanted to have her killed?" She asked, "He didn't believe her! He was going to let her die!"

Elsa winced visibly, her eyes resting briefly on Hans, before she adopted a smile on her face. "It was a misunderstanding," she told the girl. "The moral of this story, children, is that no matter what, it is always important to stay true to yourself. Love is the most powerful magic of all, you see? Elisa's love and dedication saved her brothers."

"Well, except for the one who still had a wing for an arm," a boy pointed out, making Elsa chuckle.

"Yes, except for that," she agreed. Hans couldn't laugh, however, because he was still reeling from the vision he'd just had. His arm throbbed, even though he knew quite well that it wasn't broken, but somehow he knew it had been once.

"Your Majesty," another child, a girl, spoke up. "Could you do the magic?"

"Yes, please!" Another chimed in as a resounding chorus of pleas to the Queen filled the room. Hans noticed Elsa falter slightly for a moment, but she composed herself at once, nodding.

"Very well, but just a little," she told them. Hans watched in open mouthed wonder as she gestured elegantly with her hands, producing a glowing blue orb. "One…two…_three!" _In an instant, the entire room was transformed into a winter wonderland with a gentle layer of ice over the floor and fluffy flakes of snow drifting lazily to the floor. Hans watched the Queen, marveling at her apparent ease with her power while he could barely control his own. He looked down at his own hands.

_Love is the most powerful magic of all._

If only there was someone out there who loved him…

* * *

Elsa watched Hans out of the corner of her eye as they walked through the village. She noticed people eyeing him suspiciously, clearly recognizing the would-be usurper from two years earlier, though none of them would dare question her judgment. Not that she wasn't questioning herself these past few days. If somebody had told her a year earlier – _no _– a _month _earlier even, that Hans would wash up on her shore and she wouldn't immediately have him locked up, she would have scoffed and called them a naïve fool. But, that was before she had learned about their supposed destiny.

What worried Elsa was that his memories were going to return and she would have to brace for the worst again. Undoubtedly, he would try to take her throne again. Or, if not, he would exact revenge on her for thwarting him. Still, she couldn't deny that this version of Hans was not the villain who had left her shores in chains. This was nothing but a lost boy. What was intriguing, or perhaps better described as curious, was the fact that Hans had power. She found herself wondering if he'd had them all along, or if his parents had actually succeeded in suppressing them with magic. Had he possessed power when he'd come to her coronation? Her eyes fell to his hands that moved by his sides as he walked beside her and she realized with a touch of surprise that he'd worn gloves for the entirety of his time in Arendelle before.

Then again, she _had _sort of frozen the entire kingdom, so there was _that. _Still, it was curious. It was familiar. Elsa swallowed, casting her eyes on the sun bathed cobblestone road as they strolled. It was warm this afternoon with no clouds against the vividly blue late spring sky, and she was grateful for her bonnet; she'd have been red as a lobster in minutes otherwise.

Elsa studied Hans' profile, noting that despite her resolve to remain unsympathetic toward him, she could not deny that he was a handsome man. Now that the gauntness had gone from his sallow cheeks and his color had returned, she couldn't help admiring the finely shaped nose and strong jawline. He was broader in the shoulders than she'd initially thought, but her eyes were drawn to his gleaming red hair. It was more auburn than Anna's red, gleaming in the sunlight. It made her scowl because she thought it was beautiful. Elsa had always envied the brilliant red of her sister's hair, intermixed with strands of gold and honey while her hair barely had color at all. It was practically white, and so thick that it was dreadfully heavy. She'd always felt like a colorless lily beside Anna, who was more like brilliant bouquet of summer flowers.

Lost in thought, the toe of Elsa's walking boot caught on an uneven stone, and she lost her balance, flying forward unceremoniously. She extended her arms, releasing a blast of ice, which only served to make things worse. Mortified, she covered her face, but was surprised when a pair of hands caught her around the waist. Her eyes widened with the realization that it must be Hans, but when she turned to look up at him, she was looking into a pair of blue eyes and sighed in relief, recognizing the Captain of the Royal Guard.

"My lady," he said with concern in his voice, setting her to her feet and checking her over, "Are you hurt?"

"No, of course not," she assured him, laughing nervously and stepping away. "Just slightly mortified."

"I'm glad," the Captain told her before his eyes widened in horror. "Er, glad you're not _hurt, _not glad that you're mortified." Elsa laughed, patting his arm reassuringly.

"I understand, Captain," she returned pleasantly, adjusting her bonnet and straightening her skirts. "Er…I'm afraid I don't know your name."

"Gabriel," he inserted for her, smiling broadly.

"Gabriel," she echoed, returning his smile. "Thank you for your help."

"My lady," the Captain bowed, before returning to his post with the other guards. Elsa turned back to Hans, who looked like he'd smelled something sour.

"I…didn't hit you, did I?" She asked to fill the uncomfortable silence.

"No," he answered sullenly, turning his eyes forward. "May I offer you my arm?" He asked in a sharp tone, making her bristle internally.

"No, thank you," she snipped back, glowering at his profile. "I can manage fine on my own."

"Hmmpf," came his response and the silence returned. They'd very nearly reached the village square when he spoke again. "You do realize that man is in love with you, don't you?"

"Which man?" Elsa asked, frowning in bemusement. Green eyes gave her a sidelong glance.

"The one whom just had you in his arms," he retorted moodily.

"The _Captain?" _She balked, making a sound of irritation. "He was doing his _duty," _she insisted.

"All too conveniently," Hans pointed out with a raised brow, earning an icy glare from the Queen.

"Sir, he has _honor_. He would _never _think of me that way," she retaliated with a hiss. "More than _you _can say, I'm sure."

"I'll admit outright that I find you beautiful, Your Majesty. Maybe that means I have no honor," the amnesic Prince shrugged as Elsa felt her face grow red. "But I don't care how much honor that man has, he _does _think of you that way. Not that I fault him—"

Elsa let out a growl, feeling the palms of her hands turn cold. "If you say another word, I will encase you in ice just to be rid of your incessant provocation." She narrowed her eyes on him. "Still as arrogant as ever with no memories."

"Was I?" Hans asked, sobering. "Apologies, my lady. I…" He swallowed, shaking his head. "I don't know what's come over me."

Elsa sighed, yielding. "No, it's fine…I'm sure it must be…frustrating…for you to not know anything about your own life. I overreacted."

"I did provoke you," he reminded her amiably.

"Yes," she agreed, trying to suppress the smile that was threatening at her lips. "You did."

"Let me make amends," he suggested, holding out his arm to her. She stared at it, unmoving and marveling at the absurdity of this scenario. She couldn't imagine what Anna would think of her right now, cavorting with their worst enemy; a man who had left her for dead. It was so utterly ridiculous, she couldn't help herself; she began to laugh. It started small like a ripple in a pond and a moment later, spilled over like a tidal wave. It was either laugh or cry, and frankly, Elsa had cried enough in her life.

_Let me make amends…_as if offering her his arm could ever erase the harm he'd done. It was too hilarious.

"Well, if I'm going to Hell anyway," she muttered, linking her arm through Hans'. It was surprising to her, because she could feel the feverish heat radiating off of his skin through his sleeves. The sounds of a band playing in the village square filled the air, enveloping them pleasantly.

"Music," Hans mused, raising his brows.

"Very perceptive," she quipped with half a grin. They came to the edge of the crowd, who were gathered around a group of people dancing. Elsa craned her head, peering through the spaces between people.

"Would you like to dance?" Hans asked, meeting her eyes. Elsa bit her lower lip, shaking her head.

"I…can't," she told him, swallowing. His eyes filled with confusion, before he nodded resignedly.

"I see," he sighed. "Because of what I did…before…"

"No!" Elsa quickly replied, "I mean, _yes, _but that's not why I can't dance with you."

"I don't understand." His voice was not unkind, but it was somewhat less warm than it had been moments before, when they were joking. Her eyes flitted toward the dancers, whirling effortlessly with each other, making it look like the easiest thing in the world.

"I…" Elsa let go of his arm, turning away from him, grateful that none of the villagers had yet noticed that the girl in the lavender dress and bonnet was their ruler. It was too humiliating. She was transported back to the night of her coronation, staring her accusers in the face; a little girl lost with no control over any part of her life.

"Elsa…"

Elsa shook her head as her eyes welled up. Shaking her head, she turned and fled from him, slipping past her guards and retreating into the shade of an alcove next to the bakery. She longed for the comfort of her quiet chambers in the castle, the weight of thirteen wasted years of youth bearing down on her.

"Your Majesty!" Hans caught up with her at once, skidding across the smooth stone and bowing into the alcove that was just slightly too small for his tall frame and bending over her. "I hope I haven't offended you."

Sniffling, Elsa chuckled ruefully, wiping at the wetness beneath her eyes with her thumbs. "No," she told him in defeat, "You haven't offended me. I'm just realizing how much of my life I missed being a coward." He said nothing, but his eyes softened as he waited for her to continue. "I can't dance with you because, well, I never learned how." She gratefully accepted the proffered handkerchief from his hand, dabbing at her eyes. "Dancing requires touching, and…" She held up a hand to demonstrate her point. Her face crumpled. "I spent so long avoiding the rest of the world…I don't know how to be part of it anymore. And I want to," her voice broke, "I want to _so _badly." She exhaled in frustration. "I don't know why I'm even telling you this…but it just…feels so _wonderful _to tell _somebody." _

"What about your sister? Anna?" He asked in a cautious voice.

"I don't want to burden her," Elsa confessed, "With our parents gone I need to be strong for her. I neglected Anna for so long…"

"Isn't that what family is supposed to do?" He challenged gently, "Support each other?"

Elsa swallowed, stunned. He was _right, _of course, and she wanted to hate him for it, but she couldn't muster up the strength. If she couldn't lean on Anna, then what was the point of being there for each other? It wasn't as if Anna couldn't protect herself; certainly her feisty sibling had proven that when she'd gone after her rogue sister and saved Elsa's life and her own with the excessive amount of love she'd always had inside her. Anna was the strongest person she'd ever known.

"Look, I don't know you very well," Hans expressed running a hand through his hair, "Hell, I don't really know _me _very well…but from what I can tell, you carry the weight of your worries all by yourself, and you don't _need _to. You have people that love and care about you. That's more than some people can say." Elsa noticed that his smile did not reach his eyes. "Maybe some people don't deserve love."

"Everyone deserves to be loved," Elsa insisted. "We're all born innocent. It's life that changes us, and the choices we make." She looked up into his face, surprising herself. "You want a second chance? This is _it," _she told him. "The only person who can decide your fate is _you. _So, _decide. _What kind of choices will you make now? How will you repair the damage you've done?"

Hans stared at her with his mouth slightly agape, taken aback by her challenge. His eyes were wide, bright in contrast to the darkness of the alcove. "You're right," he murmured, sounding dazed. "No matter what I do…or how much I change…I can never undo what I did to you and your sister...no amount of apology could ever make up for it."

"No," Elsa agreed, astonishing herself as she took his hand between both of hers, pressing their palms together; hot and cold. "But, it's a start."

"Then, I offer my deepest and most regretful apology," he told her thickly. "My actions were beyond reproach and I will live with the shame of my crime every day of my life."

"Thank you," Elsa answered. "I still can't forgive you. Maybe someday…but I am grateful for the gesture all the same."

"Shall we return to the square?" He asked, gesturing toward the crowd.

Elsa shook her head. "I think I've had enough excitement for one day." She exited the alcove first with him bowing out behind her. She noticed her guards nearby, watching her with concern. The Captain relaxed at the sight of her, though she did notice his eyes narrow slightly on Hans, but it passed so quickly, she wondered if she'd imagined it. Turning back to Hans, her eyes fell to the arm he was offering to her.

"My lady?" He asked. Elsa stared at it for a moment, swallowing her doubt.

_I am not a coward._

She took his arm.

* * *

**You guys, THANK you for reading this. Seriously.**

**The excerpts of the fairytale Elsa was reading to the children were from The Wild Swans, another lovely story by the amazing Hans Christian Andersen. :)**


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